When Heaven's Vault Cracked
by ElectricSkeletons
Summary: Sequel to Dark Moon Rising. Lights flash beyond the smooth glass. Mere glimmers of civilization, but to Pandora Sullivan they are deep slices of death. One last breath is all she takes before stepping onto the platform. Home is far away now. A rift in the stars lingers overhead. It is the dawning of a new age, the whisper of a storm just beginning to gather.
1. The Sound of Trees

**Note:** This is the sequel to Dark Moon Rising. Although I appreciate your interest in the story, it is impossible to read and understand the plot and characters if you haven't read Dark Moon Rising. So make sure you read it first before starting on this one ;)

To all the others, who are familiar with the saga: I hope you continue to enjoy :)

* * *

_"Oh, you men of stones!_

_Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so_

_That heaven's vault should crack! She's gone forever!_

_I know when one is dead and when one lives._

_She's dead as earth! Lend me a looking-glass;_

_If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,_

_Why, then she lives!"_

King Lear (V . III)

* * *

_The Sound of Trees_

The faltering winter breeze drifted into the open windows, piling sparkling snow on the sill. A fine layer of white dusting coated the sawdust floors. It was cold, but it didn't seem to affect her. To spite it all she was wearing a simple white sweater that casually hung off one of her shoulders. The ridges of her boots pressed into the grove of a nearby chair. Dusty tools, logs of timber, and a scent reminiscent of her childhood filled the small room. With every gust of wind, the floors and walls creaked.

Her eyes briefly turned to the window.

The sun was trying to peer out of the clouds. It would be evening soon.

She ignored the falling sun, however, puckering her lips in concentration as she wiggled the knife against the wood. Loose pieces of bark fell into a pile of shavings underneath her chair.

In the distance she could hear children playing on the street and heavy footsteps travel into town from the forest. District 7. Her home. Even after she had returned it had felt foreign and distant. As if she never truly came home.

Before the arena, before all the terror had happened, Pandora Sullivan rarely ventured to her father's old workshop, afraid to face the memories, but now it seemed to be the only place she could find refuge. The sawdust floor was imprinted with her scattered footprints, footprints that had accumulated into a haphazard charting of her months at home. For hours she would sit in the shop, whittling boxes and figures out of the bones of District 7. The forest no longer held the same magic it once did for her. Now more than ever she desired solitude, afraid to accept whatever smiles and words her old friends would give.

It had been a year since her Hunger Games, but the memories clung to her like a disease. She was haunted. Upon her return, days turned into months in the blink of an eye. Each morning she awoke to the sound of sawmills and quiet pattering of footsteps beyond her door, and each morning she wished that it could all stop. Somewhere in the Capitol President Snow was waiting for Pandora, his _special candidate_…his toy in a much larger game.

Her fingers skillfully moved for a smaller knife as she kicked her legs onto the table and slouched back. There was no pressure when she was alone to let the darkness in, to let the memories run their course. Out there, in the reality of District 7, it was much harsher. Smiles cloaked with caution stared back at her, reminding her that she was dangerous. A killer. In every sense of the word a killer. Moments of clarity only harshened the truth of what would happen to her. In the depths of her soul she knew that darkness lay on the horizon.

A chunk of wood peeled off the core of wood in her hand and dropped to the ground as a soft noise buzzed in her ears. Her hands stopped working. It was a rasping different from the wind. Her eyes lifted and the hilt of her knife rolled in her palms.

She had to remind herself that she was back home, away from the horrors of the Hunger Games, but her body reacted otherwise. When she felt the hand on her shoulder, surprise overtook her.

A shout unforgivingly roared from her lungs as she leapt to her feet and raised the knife in the air.

"Woah!"

The shadow shuffled back. Instantly she identified the face behind the voice.

"It's August—"

Her brow furrowed as she lowered her knife and shook her head. "Why are you sneaking up on me?"

"I thought you heard me. I didn't mean to scare you."

Her eyes blinked to the ground. "What are you doing here? I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

August darted his eyes around the room, casually poking at the pile of wood shavings with his boot, "It's not like we don't know where you go. I came here to get you."

Pandora straightened her back before walking past him and taking a seat. She snatched the piece of wood and continued whittling, "I'm busy."

For months now August had tried to get his sister back. She was different, from the moment Pandora had arrived at the platform of District 7 he had seen that something inside her had changed. At first he accepted it, but now all he wanted was his younger sister again.

"We missed you this morning on our hunting trip. You should have seen it. Dash bagged a quail _and_ a rabbit. He's getting good, but don't tell him that. I think it's all going to his head."

The blade of the knife kept peeling away the bark. Her eyes remained on her hands.

"That's nice," her tone was vacant.

In disappointment August pursed his lips and shifted his weight, "The sun will set soon."

"I can light a candle."

"Pandora—"

Suddenly her hands stopped working. When she lifted her eyes to August's face she looked agitated, even angry. "What?!"

"How long are you going to do this?"

"I should be done by tonight," she whispered.

His eyebrow arched, "You know what I mean, Pandora."

Although she had looked away, he could see the glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Her lips rubbed together in awkward silence. It was true, she knew exactly what he meant. If only she could make him understand why it was so hard to go back to the way it was. It wasn't just that she had seen death in it's truest form, or even that she killed people, it was that there was no tomorrow for her. She had signed a contract. A contract that symbolized her captivity, but she couldn't divulge that to anyone, especially not her family.

"It's been a year—I'm not saying you need to be your old self. But—can't you try?"

What he was asking was selfish but he didn't care. He tilted his head from left to right, trying to see any response on Pandora's lips. She kept her head lowered and her gaze on the whittling knife. After several heartbeats of silence he knelt on the floor and craned his head so he could look her in the eyes. As he placed his hand on her knees she felt her muscles tightened. Every time someone she loved touched her, she had the instinct to move away.

"I know you think it helps to shut us out, Pan, but it doesn't."

Her eyes moved to his. "Please don't touch me."

His brow creased in confusion as he drew back. "Pandora—"

"I'm really busy, August, I don't know what you're going on about, but I'm busy!"

"Stop."

Abruptly she slammed her knife on the table and narrowed her eyes. "I don't need you lecturing me on how to act!"

"I'm your older brother."

"And so what?!"

"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just trying to get anything from you, Pandora. You lifelessly walk around, constantly hiding in this workshop! I understand that you went through hell and back, but please—tell me, let me be there for!"

Her jaw clenched as she rose to her feet and grabbed her coat. "You want me to leave this dingy old workshop? Fine then…" her arms wiggled in to the sleeves of the black coat, "Goodbye, August."

She shoved past him. Within only a few strides she reached for the rattling handle and threw open in the door.

"Pandora, c'mon!"

But she didn't stop.

Angrily she shuffled through the snow, not pausing to look back, though she was sure that August was close behind. Truthfully it was all her fault. All year she had been playing a cat and mouse game, where she was the mouse. She wished that it were easier. She wished that when she looked into the faces of her family members she didn't feel gut wrenching guilt and shame, but she did.

Lux Halstead had once told her that some Tributes never come back from the game. Now she understood it all, now it seemed like the only truth in her life. Maybe she hadn't gone mad, but she still hadn't returned from the arena. All dreams had turned to nightmares. Food tasted like ash. Even the breeze from the forest somehow smelt foul.

The flames of lantern lights flickered in the approaching night, lighting her path home. From where Pandora walked, she could see various members of the Mayor's office setting up for the festival on a hillside just a few blocks away.

In despair her hand rubbed the side of her face. The Northern Lights Festival, it was tomorrow. Had it really been that long?

"One year," she whispered, swallowing the anxiety in her throat. She stopped walking when the realization set in.

Time had passed. Too much time. Only a couple days till the Victory Tour. Mere glimpses before District 7 would be a fleeting memory in the back of her mind.

A puff of her breath rose towards the sky in misery.

It wasn't until she finally turned her eyes away, that she recognized where her feet had taken her. Instantly her heart began to race. Her eyes widened. Only a few paces away was Marius's home—his family's home.

It was a small shanty with a caving roof and billowing chimney. Pandora had only seen it a few times since she had returned. Each time it was harder then the next. She took a step forward, trying to hold back the sorrow. Through the frosted window she could see his mother lighting a candle. In the short-lived light Pandora could see how sad the woman looked, only adding to the salt in her wounds. Pandora wanted to look away, to run, but she couldn't find the courage. She was frozen in place.

"Pandora!"

August was running after her.

Her eyes filled with sadness as she continued to watch Marius's mother stare into the flame. She wondered what she must be thinking. Pandora had taken her only son away from her. By all rights, his mother had every right to hunt her down and slaughter her, and Pandora would have let her. A grimace traveled from her lips to her eyes. It was unbearable to watch. She could feel the grief from where she stood in the snow.

And then, suddenly and frightfully, the woman looked up.

Pandora gasped as his mother looked straight at her. At first she looked confused, but then Pandora saw it—the bitterness, the hate...the recognition. His mother was staring daggers at her.

"Look, Pandora, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to upset you," August began to breathlessly ramble as he reached her side, quickly noticing the strange expression on her face. "What's the matter? What are you looking at—"

His eyes widened as he followed Pandora's horrified stare, to the window. The mother was still standing there, refusing to look away.

"We should go."

Pandora blinked her eyes, feeling the coldness of the mother's gaze. "I should say something—"

"Pandora, no!"

"I should, I killed him. I should—I should say something. She deserves that."

She tried to walk but August quickly grabbed her arm and shook his head, "It's been a year. You think it's going to help? He's gone, Pandora."

"Let go of me!"

August pulled her away, "He's gone. Please, let's just go home."

She panted for air, wishing that she could make it all right. The snow gently fell around them.

"Look at me."

Her lips trembled as she moved away from him and stumbled backward. It took all her strength to look away from the window at August. When she did, she instantly saw the desperation in his eyes.

"It's time to go home, Pandora."

Her head nodded in agreement, but just as he started pulling her down the road her eyes sadly looked back. Her heart felt like it would break. No longer was the mother in the window. She had left, leaving only the flame of the candle burning through the glass.

They trudged through the snow, surrounded by garlands and lights that looked absurd against the run down houses and mills.

The image of Marius's mother was singed into Pandora's brain. Just another face to add to the nightmares. Even after they had arrived at the gates to the Victor's Village she could see every single line of hate in the woman's face, ever curve of rage.

"August—" she finally whispered, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as they sprinted up the steps of the porch. He turned around, scanning her face in concentration. "—I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry, I know you're only trying to help."

"I'm not trying to help you, I'm trying to make you remember."

Her arm fell to her side and her brow furrowed. "Remember what?"

"You're alive. It's a miracle, not a curse."

She wanted to object. To tell him that he didn't know what he was talking about. She was cursed, and nothing could change that. But all these thoughts remained bottled up inside. Instead her lips parted in frustration. To him it was a miracle to have his sister back safely, but Pandora knew better.

"I'm trying, August. I'm really trying."

Without warning he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. "You don't have to be perfect. You're my sister—I'll love you all the same."

A wave of emotions swirled in her stomach and head. The hug made her feel nauseous. Something inside her cried out. She didn't deserve it, the affection or the understanding. She didn't deserve any of it. But in spite of it all, she reciprocated the hug.

"I know—" she whispered. "I know."

"_August is that you! Come inside before you catch a cold!"_ Their mother's voice suddenly rang out from somewhere inside.

Immediately, August released Pandora. A smile reached his eyes and laugh blew past his lips. "Enough of this. It's freezing out here."

Pandora corner-eyed the nearest window, surprised that her mother had heard them.

"Yea," She managed a smile, "It really is."

He shot her one last grin before turning to the door and pushing it open.

She could feel the blood rushing back into her fingers as she peeled off her coat and boots. From the adjoining room, music melodically sang. A sweet scent wafted through the house, the smell of pie. Now that Pandora was a Victor it was easier to acquire food rarities, something that was hard to get used to.

"Pandora!"

The squeal was so familiar and heart warming that she couldn't help the laugh that erupted from her. Dash flew out of the living room and slammed his body into her. Over the past year he had grown quite a bit and it took her a minute to brace herself for the bear hug.

"You're here!"

She shifted her eyes to the hall and smiled, her mother was wearing a green apron and carrying her baby sister. Chestnut curls crowned her sisters head and a warm smile light up her face as she saw Pandora.

"Of course," she laughed, "Of course I am."

Dash stumbled back. He was at the awkward stage of adolescence where your limbs suddenly grow but everything else stays the same. "We didn't think you'd make it."

Pandora crossed her arms and smile, uncomfortably pressing her back against the wall. "I heard you caught a quail and a rabbit today."

He straightened his back and raised his eyebrows, "Why yes I did."

August chuckled, playfully punching his brother in the arm, "Don't get too arrogant, little brother."

"Mom's making the quail for dinner," Dash continued with a youthful smile, "She said it's the biggest one she's seen. August wasn't so lucky—I think he picked a few berries."

"Oh yea?" August quipped through a laugh as he put Dash in a headlock. Quickly they started wrestling.

"Boys…be careful now."

Pandora yelped as they moved the playful fighting to the living room, almost taking her out with them.

Her smile tensed as her mother walked closer.

Her hands still had flour on them as she affectionately brushed her Pandora's hair away from her face.

"You look tired."

Pandora tried to smile. "I didn't realize how long I had been in the workshop till August came to get me," she lied.

"Well—I'm glad your home."

She quietly glanced between her sister and mother, "Me too."

"Merry Christmas, Pandora."

For a moment, Pandora scanned the large house. Her mother had made it so warm and comforting. It was hard to believe that the Sullivan's had ever lived in another house, but they had. The fire roaring in the other room caused her wrestling brothers to look like shadows. Everything was just as it used to be on the surface. But underneath all of it, nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same.

As she looked back at her mother, sadness filled her eyes. Sadness that no one could see or feel but Pandora.

"Merry Christmas," she softly whispered.


	2. Under the Northern Lights

_Under the Northern Lights _

A rosy hue tinged her cheeks and nose as she stepped onto the porch and buttoned the collar of her torn coat. It was evening and the navy sky was quickly blackening. Already, Pandora could see the stars starting to glimmer.

Her boots sank into the heavy snow with a crunch as she leapt off the wooden steps and quickened her pace towards center of town. She could feel the thick fabric of her scarf caressed her chin and neck as she navigated through the corridors of brick and snow. In a matter of seconds she had reached the main road, the only true road of District 7. Along the way, thousands of candles were lit, melting the snow around them. Trails of footprints and sleds lined the wide path. All tracks were heading in one direction.

Her hands rubbed together as her eyes followed the stretch of snow to the knolls skirting District 7. She was about a mile away but from where she stood she could see the string of lantern lights illuminating the festival. Her gaze lifted further as she noticed the movement in the sky. The sun had set completely, finally the navy had transformed into a blanket of black, but there was something else. Dancing across the skies, surrounded by stars, was the Northern Lights.

A whisper of a smile read on her lips. Gently, she titled her head up in admiration. Waves of green, blue, and yellow swirled overhead with vivacity, it was as if someone's hand was moving the Lights like ribbons of silk.

The Northern Lights Festival. It was always held in the winter months. Sometimes they never saw the Northern Lights and other times it would unexpectedly appear, but its absence or presence didn't seem to affect the festival. Every year it was held.

The closer she traveled towards the festival, the louder the music became. Folk songs and the serenade of violins were echoing throughout the valley. It was the one time of year that poverty was forgotten. In celebration, citizens would dust off their old musical instruments and dancing shoes to frolic in the snowy meadows. Pandora looked forward to it every year, but not this year.

Her feet struggled through the snow. She was beginning to make the hike up the valley. Snow was just starting to fall. It wasn't like the snow in the arena, unnatural and biting, this snow was nostalgic and festive. Her fingers stretched out to catch a few flakes before she let out a sigh and shivered.

The scent of burning cinnamon fronds tickled her nose as she reached the top of the knolls. More than anything she wanted to bolt into a run like she used to. She wanted to feel free.

Instead Pandora lingered at the edge of the festival. It was nothing fancy, of course the people of District 7 couldn't afford it, but the Mayor had put his best foot forward. Heavy tables made of pine grew from the snowy ground, lit up by candles burning with cinnamon fronds. Strings of lanterns dangled from tree limbs above. Farther out, past the tables was a frozen pond. Children were sliding on it and throwing snowballs. There was no great feast or drink, but the air was filled with song and dance.

"You're late!"

Her head turned to the side in surprise.

"Dash—you scared me."

He shook a few flakes of snow out of his hair and grinned, "Let's sled."

Her body cringed as he grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the festivities. "Woah, slow down!"

He was leading her to a large group of people, panic started to fill her eyes. This was why she didn't want to come: the crowd, the sight of smiles strained by caution.

"Dash—stop—"

Obstinately he dragged her a few more steps. "C'mon, Pandora!"

Her lungs filled with the icy air of apprehension as her little brother pushed her towards the group. She nearly slipped as he let go of her arm, but a hand reached out and steadied Pandora. When she lifted her eyes to August she nodded at him. A smile replied her nod.

"You came."

Pandora attempted a smile but it came off as a grimace, "I hope there's still tea left."

"More than enough."

Suddenly the talking and laughter stopped. Her eyes scanned the faces of old classmates and friends she once had relationships with. Now she barely spoke to them. They looked bewildered, even scared.

"H—hello," she stammered, straightening her coat out.

They shifted away uncomfortably. She might as well be a leper. First her eyes moved to Gunner, a boy she had sat next to every day in class. Then she peered at Slate, once upon a time they used to be friends, but Pandora had severed those ties when she returned from the Capitol. As she looked at him, she noticed he was literally inching away from her. Finally her gaze shifted to the last person in the group: Lena Whitacre. Pandora had to stop herself from running that very moment. The girl that Marius had loved, the one that was only briefly mentioned right before she plunged a knife into his heart.

Her fingers rigidly curled. Shame crept into her cheeks.

"We were just going to go sledding…" Dash continued, excitedly peering around the group.

Silence replied to the carefree statement, silence that caused Pandora to drop her eyes.

Although she could feel August close by, it wasn't enough. She knew what each of them was thinking because she was thinking the exact same thing. Pandora Sullivan the Victor of the 68th Hunger Games and the murderer of Marius Bishop.

There was no glory for the Victor of the outlying Districts, only dishonor and stigma. Children you once played with turned to acquaintances, smiles turned to stiff lips of tension.

"I—" she felt sick, suddenly the smell of snow and laughter was too much, "—I think I'll just go."

She had only walked a few steps before she heard someone running after her.

"Hold on!"

It wasn't August or Dash.

Pandora glanced over her shoulder in shock. Lena Whitacre was running after her.

Lena's blonde hair blew in the wind as she caught up to Pandora and laughed, "You know, I didn't really feel like sledding either."

Pandora's brown eyes widened in disbelief, standing in front of her was a girl who had every right to hate her. She was smiling. A smile that wasn't afraid or bitter, but natural. Outside of her family, Pandora hadn't seen a smile like that since before the Games.

"Lena—you don't have to."

"Don't be silly. I want to."

Lena's hands reached out. Pandora quickly moved away and shook her head. "Really, you don't have to, if you don't want to...I don't mind being alone."

Lena Whitacre was known throughout District 7 as being exceptionally pretty. She had long blonde hair and blue almond-shaped eyes. It didn't surprise Pandora when Marius said he loved Lena because, truthfully, she was sure that most of the boys in District 7 did.

"I want to," Lena laughed back, "Let's get some tea!"

Before Pandora realized what was happening Lena had disappeared into the crowd and returned with two steaming cups of tea. She handed one of the cups to Pandora with a smile while holding the other mug close to her lips.

"I didn't think we'd see the Northern Lights this year."

Pandora silently raised her eyes. The green waves were still dancing.

"It's colder this year. Not that anyone cares…your brothers seem to be having fun."

In the distance August, Dash and the rest of the group were taking turns on the sled and laughing. It made Pandora feel empty inside.

"You're quiet, you haven't said a word…I hope your feelings weren't hurt back there."

"No. I mean—it's fine. I'm fine," It was hard for her to look at Lena.

"They just don't know how to act around you is all."

Wisps of Pandora's dark hair blew around her face as she dropped her eyes and took a sip of tea, "It's alright. I don't even know how to act around me."

It didn't occur to Pandora that what she said could be taken as a joke until she heard Lena laughing. In surprise she moved the cup away from her mouth and furrowed her brow. Inside confusion was starting to boil over. Why was she being so decent to her? Did she honestly have no contempt for what Pandora had done? Deliberately, Pandora's eyes narrowed, she tried to stop herself but couldn't:

"Why are you doing this?"

Lena's laugh instantly stopped. "What do you mean?"

"I killed him."

She studied Lena's face as shock overtook it. A year of solitude and nightmares had made Pandora's speech blunt and severe.

"I killed Marius, and you're treating me like you don't know."

It was hard for Pandora to hold back the tears, but she was becoming rather good at cloaking her emotions. Her jaw clenched as she shook her head and shrugged.

"So why?"

The wind whistled over the snowy knolls.

For a moment Lena looked away and wiggled underneath her coat.

"It wasn't your fault," she finally replied.

This was something Pandora was sick of. She was sick of hearing people say it wasn't her fault that she killed other human beings. It _was_ her fault. She had a choice and she chose to kill them, including Marius. Her lips tightened in aggravation. The girl in front of her was sweet and ignorant. It should have made Pandora thankful that there was still innocence in the world, but it didn't. Watching Lena's kindness in action only made Pandora angrier.

"Of course it's my fault."

"You helped Marius, you did it so he wouldn't suffer. How can I hate you for helping him?"

"I did it because I was selfish. I was a coward, that's why it happened," the words hissed past Pandora's teeth like shards of glass.

The cup in Lena's hands was trembling. "I don't believe that."

"Then you're a fool, just like the anyone else who thinks I didn't want to win the Games. I would have killed him eventually. It was only a matter of time."

As soon as she said it, Pandora knew how deep the words cut. Of course she hadn't meant it, but it needed to be said.

Tears welled up in Lena's blue eyes, "That's not funny, if you're trying to be funny—"

"I'm not trying to be anything. Don't be dim, it's unbecoming."

She could hear Lena gasp. Pandora didn't want to think about how the girl beside her was feeling, she just wanted to be left alone.

Only a brief moment past before she heard the Lena's footsteps saunter away into the night. Pandora wanted to run after her and shake her, tell her that it was better this way, that she was no good as a friend, but all she did was stand there.

The next sip of tea that touched the tip of her tongue tasted like acrid waste.

_It was better this way_, she thought. Solitude was the only option, if she had to ruin every friendship she once had, she would. She would do it all to make sure that no one else would be hurt in the terrible games she had sold herself into.

"Pandora…"

August was walking towards her, snow was caked to parts of his coat. Awkwardly she crossed her arms and rubbed her lips, still trying to recover from her own gruesome words.

"What was that about?"

She peered around the festival, trying to hide her true feelings. "Hm?"

"Why did Lena storm off like that?"

"Mind your own business, August."

Suddenly his eyes narrowed in realization, "What is the matter with you!? Why do you want them to hate you!?"

He tried to grab her arm but she took a step back.

"Because they should," He could see the familiar look of guilt cover her face. The crescendo of song echoed throughout the festival, but August didn't look away.

"You want to be a monster, is that it!?"

She gritted her teeth. "I already am—" heavy breaths filled her lungs, "—you want to know how I feel? Is that what you want?"

"Of course."

"And you'll still love me? You'll still look at me the same way?!"

"I will always love you."

Acid filled her mouth and eyes. "Every night I hear the screams of people dying. I see blood and death and hate all around me. Those are my dreams—and you know what's even worse?!"

His lips were speechlessly parted.

"When I wake up from those dreams I almost wish—for just one second, I wish I had never woke up."

"You don't mean that."

A dark laugh bellowed from her. "If only you knew how much I did."

He turned his face away and rubbed the sides of his head. "You don't know what you're saying. You're just tired. It was too much for you today. I shouldn't have made you come."

She swatted his hand away when he tried to reach for her shoulder.

"You really don't get it do you?! When I try to be who I was it doesn't fit. I'm not the same. Nothing is the same! It will never be like the way it was!"

"But—"

"You want so badly for me to smile and laugh, to live my life. I have done what I did to save you, to save our family—" she had to catch herself, she was losing it, "—and tomorrow when that train comes for me it will all start over."

Tears had started to form in the corners of her eyes.

He shook his head, "It may feel dark now, for a very long time from now even. But I promise you, sister, it will get better."

Her smile was so hollow she could feel it in every bone of her body, "It's just beginning, August."

An eruption of laughter pierced through the cold, followed shortly by applause. Near the frozen pond, Raff Wellwood had managed to tie a bundle of cinnamon fronds to the tail of the Mayor's coat without him noticing. Everyone, even the Mayor was laughing, sending puffs of breath into the frigid air.

Pandora gnawed at her bottom lip in irritation as she peered across the way. She was just about to continue when someone caught her eyes through the falling snow and lantern lights. It was a face she had long forgotten, though occasionally he appeared in her dreams.

Lux Halstead was hunched near the vendor. His bulging yellow eyes blazed as he carelessly slurped something from a mug. Even though they both lived in the Victor's Village she hadn't seen him since her return to District 7. He didn't look so well, by the condition of his scrawny limbs and sallow skin she could tell he was sucking morphine into his body like water still.

A moment of relief settled inside Pandora when she noticed that he hadn't seen her, but then he looked up. The recognition was instant. His body leaned forward groggily. His eyes squinted.

Suddenly the laughter turned into mocking caws. Menacing taunts that clawed at her brain. Her gloved hand dropped her teacup and her feet slid backwards. August let out a groan as he caught the cup and hot water spilt all over his hands.

"I need to—to go—" She breathlessly whispered.

Images started to flicker in her head like a broken projector. Memories of the arena.

"We're not done talking, Pandora," her brother harshly said.

Her head slowly shook from side to side. She tried to walk away but he jumped in front of her.

"You have to try, at least."

"Stop saying that!" she angrily growled, cupping her hands over her ears as another bout of laughter broke out. "Get out of my way."

"No."

"_Well if it isn't the Sullivan's_…" The Mayor was heading their way.

Her eyes twitched to his candle lit shadow. No doubt he was going to break into one of his long winded speeches of how proud he was that Pandora had won the Games, then he'd probably mention the Victory Tour. Her throat felt like sandpaper, it was bad enough that the tour was starting tomorrow, she didn't need anyone reminding her. There was no more time to waste. With callousness she stumbled away, knocking into August as she did so.

"Wait!" August called after her, but Pandora didn't stop.

Her foggy breath puffed into the air as she blundered through the snow.

"_Where is she going in such a hurry?_" She heard the Mayor ask August.

"_She's just—she's not feeling well_."

Her cold lips scrunched as she reached the shadows and rubbed her face. The forest was only a few paces away. It was her only option. If she went home now it would only be a matter of time before they would find her. In the woods she could hide.

Her jaw clenched as she broke into a sprint. Running through the snow was difficult but nothing that she hadn't experienced before. Her gloved hands clawed at the bark of a tree just as she reached the edge. Underneath the canopy it was much darker. Occasionally roots and rocks disjointed her footsteps. Her feet struggled to find balance but she continued to climb and claw.

It wasn't until the music of the festival was a barely a whisper that she slowed down. In exhaustion her body collapsed onto the rocky ground. Her back pressed against the trunk of the tree. The memories were still burning, shortening her breath and hollowing out her soul.

When she finally managed to catch her breath, her eyes peered down hill. The lantern lights were dots in between an array of ghostly trees, lanterns that flickered like fireflies.

Through a rift in the tree canopy the Northern Lights peacefully glided around the night sky.

She clasped her hand to her chest and shook her head.

"Stupid girl," she said to herself, "You almost lost it. You can't lose it."

It sounded like she was having an asthma attack. Her breath wheezed so sharply that she could have sworn she heard an echo of it somewhere off in the woods.

Paranoia crept around her. She jerked her head from left to right. It felt like someone was out there watching. This wasn't the first time the prickling happened at the back of her neck, the eerie prickling of eyes on her. Over the past year there were times when she was sure that she was being monitored.

The mellowed song of snow falling surrounded her.

Even after she leaned back against the tree and peer up at the sky she felt the prickle.

A slight glimmer of green fell across her face from the Northern Lights, but the rest was covered in darkness.

Her head tilted against the cold tree, "Will we meet through the pine?"

Her melodic words disappeared with the wind.

Coldness filled her, blanketed her. It was comforting and familiar. Just before her eyes started to close, she could have sworn the winter breeze was echoing her words.

It was just her imagination, it had to be.

_Through the pine…pine…pine. _

Deep sleep parted her lips. Mockingjays were in the trees, but everything was becoming foggy. With one final gasp of consciousness she twitched her eyes to the treetops. Sly light revealed their black and white feather.

Once upon a time she had laughed and smiled, but that was the past.

_Through the pine_.

The mockingjays continued to mimic her song as a single tear fell down face and caressed her lips. The salt stung her tongue. Snowflakes melted on her pink cheeks. She should have tried to feel alive again, but it was too hard. Her eyes had seen Death's cold face, her heart had felt its sharp grasp. There was no way of going back from that cruelty and shame.

In inevitability she curled to her side, ignoring the frost. The mockingjays' calls cooed her sleep, their eerie songs spurring her nightmares and torment.


	3. Out of the Shallows and Into the Deep

**Note: I will be updating the story at least once a week from here on out. I realize I've been doing this but I thought I'd announce it to you guys. So every Sunday. Be on the edge of your seats! **

**As usual: enjoy and thanks for all the support (seriously, it means a lot) **

* * *

_Out of the Shallows and Into the Deep_

A shrill whistle cut through her dreams.

It was icy. Pain traveled through her fingers and face as the song of frozen leaves in the breeze rustled all around her. The glass needles sounded like wind chimes before a storm.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes that Pandora remembered where she was. Snowflakes fell on her cheek as she furrowed her brow in grim confusion

At first her vision was blurry, but her sight quickly cleared. The veiny outline of frosted tree limbs were looming over her shivering body.

Her head tilted slightly as the shadows of a flock of birds suddenly flew overhead. Something had disturbed them.

She twitched her eyes towards the valley. A second whistle. This time it was identifiable.

"The train!"

A gasp shuddered her body as she jolted forward and dropped her eyes. It was the beginning of the Victory Tour. Pandora barely took in the sight of her clumsy clothing before climbing to her feet and dusting away dead leaves and snow. Down the slope, beyond the trees she could see the puffs of exhaust ballooning from the silver bullet, the train had just emerged from around the bend.

Her feet moved quickly. Before she knew it she was jumping over mossy logs and underbrush. Her breathing deepened with every step she took, her hands grabbed for passing trees as she flew through the woods.

The familiar noise of sawmills broke through the morning as she dashed past the last line of trees and into the knolls.

Her eyes narrowed. The train was pulling into the station and she was at a least a mile away.

"No—no, no!"

Despite the cold, Pandora could feel sweat at the back of her neck. Her feet smashing against the thick snow, her hair whipped around her shoulders and face.

Half a mile left.

The winter breeze stung her skin as she shuffled downhill, into the valley.

Only a few more paces and she would be in town.

Her yellow scarf flew around her face in a frenzy until she reached the edge of town and stopped. Every footstep was cautiously taken once Pandora started traveling the small roadways. It didn't take a genius to figure out that cameras would be waiting for her once she arrived in the Victor's Village. The thought of cameras and flashes caused her heartbeat to migrate to her throat. In years past she had watched each Victor travel to all the Districts for their tour. Some were arrogant, others were shell-shocked. Now she was going to be one of them, just another Victor of the Hunger Games, just another sad soul marked by the blood on their hands and the hole in their being.

At the corner of the Victor's Village her feet froze. Guards were patrolling the streets in increased numbers. Capitol citizens had definitely arrived.

Somehow she managed to slink past the soldiers, only stopping briefly to make sure she was walking through the snow unnoticed before continuing. When she reached her porch steps her eyes widened at the figures through the window. She could see a silhouette of a mohawk, instantly she knew who it belonged to.

"Pandora, is that you?!"

Her lips dryly parted as she pushed open the door. "Yes, mom—I just went out for an early walk!"

The blood was rushing back into her fingers when Pandora as she watched the door glide shut.

"A walk?"

A shocked escaped her. She spun around and pressed her back against the door. Her mother was holding a pot of tea.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd get some fresh air before—well, before everything."

It was an obvious lie but her mother didn't challenge it.

"Some people are waiting for you in the living room. Your Capitol friends."

Pandora's expression darkened. They weren't her friends, acquaintances maybe, but never friends. She curled her lips, her mother's anxious demeanor worried her. It was too much, all of the cameras and people, judging by the look on her mother's face Pandora knew that it was the same for her. But without saying another word she shed her coat, scarf and gloves. A trail of snow followed close behind as she walked to the doorway and peered into the room.

The fireplace was blaze and freshly made cookies were resting on the coffee table. The room should have looked warm and inviting but it didn't.

"Pandora Sullivan—"

A Capitol accent, so clear and distinct, it had been a long time since she had heard it. Her eyes lifted to Caradoc. His mohawk and makeup were still emerald.

"—We thought you'd never show up."

"I was—"

"Walking?" Vibia peered past the steam from her cup and arched her jeweled eyebrows. Her cheekbones still looked unnaturally high, "We heard."

Pandora's mother was at her side suddenly, "Can I get you anything else?"

"This is fine," Caradoc's smile was strained, "Just some alone time with the Victor. We are on a schedule after all."

Pandora refused to look into her mother's eyes.

"Of—of course," her mother stammered.

If it had been anyone else, at any other time, Pandora knew her mother wouldn't have let anyone order her around that way. But these were Capitol officials.

Pandora quietly shifted her eyes to the faces of her stylist team. Lucius was perched near the window looking revolted by the tea her mother had brewed, Vibia was resting near the fireplace, and Caradoc was standing so still that Pandora would have mistook him for a statue under other circumstances.

It wasn't until her mother left that Caradoc spoke once more.

"You're late."

"I was walking," she whispered, trying to hold back her bitterness.

He let out a crooned grunt as he stepped closer to her and reached his hand out. Instinctively she backed away, but he was persistent. When he drew his hand back she saw a withered leaf between his fingers, "A walk, you say?"

Her cheeks flushed, "Yes."

Slowly his smile stretched in amusement.

"We've been waiting here for several minutes," Lucius complained, "What happened to punctuality?"

"Relax, Lucius," Caradoc cooed, "Miss Sullivan had no way of knowing when we'd arrive today. It isn't the little dear's fault."

The sweetness of his voice made Pandora sick. She had forgotten how Caradoc managed to be intimidating and sweetly condescending at the same time.

"I hope it was a nice walk?"

Her fingers uncomfortably pulled at the collar of her sweater, "It was."

"Good, why don't you sit?"

She dropped her eyes before walking to the sofa. Caradoc had made it seem like he was asking her, when everyone in the room knew she didn't have a choice. As she took a seat, Pandora noticed that Vibia was judging her clothing in disgust.

"You know why we're here, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at Vibia before looking back at Caradoc. "The Victory Tour."

"Ah, yes! Precisely."

Pandora nervously drummed her fingers against her knees.

"Everyone is waiting for your debut—after nearly a year!"

"I can't wait," she sarcastically quipped, clenching her jaw.

"That's the spirit…" Lucius mumbled, stirring his tea as a dull smile appeared on his face.

She wanted to leap across the room and strangle him. Her fingertips rigidly pressed against her legs. The thought of traveling across Panem with them was terrible. Lucius must have noticed her hateful gaze because as he looked at her his posture suddenly cowered and his voice broke off. It gave Pandora some satisfaction to watch him squirm but not enough to make any of this easier.

"But enough talk," Caradoc suddenly interjected, "We need to get to work, I see we have quite a bit to get done before the cameras begin rolling."

They grabbed her arms and pushed her forward. She was escorted to her own bathroom, something that aggravated Pandora beyond belief. Her eyes widened in terror as she caught sight of the scolding bath that had already been drawn.

Almost immediately after entering the bathroom Lucius wasted no time in pouring tonics and powders into the bath water. By the time he was done the water looked pink. Her nose scrunched as the aroma of roses wafted towards her. Spread across the countertops were devices, tools, and paletes. Vibia was heating a jar of wax.

"I do always love the first day of the Victory Tour! All the anticipation!" Lucius exclaimed.

She furrowed her brow at him.

"Well don't just stand there! Take off your cloth, chop chop!" He annoyingly demanded, clapping his hands together as he beckoned her to the bathtub.

Pandora meekly began pulling on her clothing. She was just down to her underwear when Caradoc returned with a rack of clothing.

His cold eyes peered at her as he shut the door. "What are you waiting for? You're not taking a bath in those are you?"

Vibia giggled at his sly remark, but Lucius simply frowned.

Her eyes lowered to her bra and underwear for a brief moment of hesitation before she stripped them off. Vibia's cold hands pressed against her skin as she pulled her towards the steaming water.

"Into the bath you go!" Lucius sang, practically throwing her into the water.

She bared her teeth as she felt the water burn her skin. Whatever tonics Lucius had put into the tub were working fast. It was a horrible bath. Occasionally she would be dunked underwater, only to hear scoffs as she resurfaced. Her eyes would fuzzily open to see Lucius coming at her with lotions and gels, which he coated on her hair and face, always his hands would push her deeper into the water, as if she were a mangy animal. In exasperation she gasped for air, she had forgotten how painful this process was.

"This is just a nightmare—a year's worth of grime is coated all over her!" Lucius jeered, splashing her face.

Pandora glared at him through wet strands of hair. "I know how to bathe myself."

"Apparently not."

"Lucius…"

He rolled his eyes at Caradoc before sighing. "Fine, all done."

She gritted her teeth before climbing to her feet and stepping onto the stone floor. A warm robe was waiting nearby and as the fabric dried her skin, she could hear Vibia and Lucius clucking. In a few short hours she would be making the journey around Panem, to see places she had never seen and people she didn't know. It was a frightening thought. Suddenly she wished she had stayed in the frigid forest.

"Pandora?"

Her hands tightened around the fabric of the robe. Vibia was waiting for her. Her blue-dyed fingers were stirring the jar of hot wax. In realization Pandora widened her eyes, she knew exactly what that wax was for. She would have almost preferred the bath.

Groans and yelps echoed through the bathroom as Vibia waxed her entire body. By the time she was done, Pandora was smoother than a riverbed rock and exhausted.

"You have started the newest trends!" Vibia gleefully chimed, "I don't think I've seen more green in my entire life. And it's all for you! Isn't that wonderful?"

Lucius started drying Pandora's hair as Vibia mixed colors on a small palette in her hands.

"They can't wait to see you again!"

"You're going to be show stopper!"

Comments like this continued as they remodeled her. It was maddening. For so long Pandora had repressed the memories of the Capitol crowds and now she was going to face them again.

"That's nice," she would reply from time to time, keeping her eyes on the ground as Vibia painted her face.

Soon Pandora's hair was straight and silky again. Ever so often she would look at the colors Vibia dabbed on her eyes and lips. Surprise filled her eyes when Vibia attacked Pandora's lips with crimson lipstick. Apparently Caradoc was taking a different approach from last year. The notion of this was daunting to Pandora.

After her hair and makeup was finished, Vibia and Lucius smiled at each other, quickly motioning for Caradoc to take a look.

He sternly approached as her eyes lifted expectantly. He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, his green eyeliner glimmered. "Good—just what I wanted."

Without another word he picked Pandora up and pulled her towards the clothing.

"I've been working on concepts of how to present you to all of Panem after your year off…"

She watched as his fingers spryly moved through various clothing pieces.

"I think we're done with the girlish vibe, now we want more mature…more sexy. You understand?"

In shock, Pandora adjusted her robe. "I don't think I can pull that off."

"Nonsense, I saw it in your closing interviews," He began pulling items, "You can and you will."

"What about my talent?"

Caradoc's eyes slightly moved to Pandora, "Hmm?"

"My talent. All Victors are supposed to have one."

A strange silence enveloped the room. It took her off guard. What had she said that was so criminal? Her eyes darted to Vibia and Lucius who were trying to act as if they weren't eavesdropping.

"Caradoc?"

"You're talent won't be necessary until you return to the Capitol."

Alarms went off in Pandora's head. For some reason it seemed like Caradoc was talking about something more than simple talents. The mysterious answer scared her. What talent could they possibly have lined up for her that had to wait for the return to the Capitol?

"What if I'm asked about it?"

"Simply deviate the conversation—you're good at interviews, wing it."

The sound of doors opening and closing echoed throughout the house. Footsteps were pattering up and own the staircase. More of her entourage had arrived. Butterflies started to swirl in her stomach.

"Now, put these on before that hyena woman complains!"

Funny enough Pandora knew exactly who Caradoc was referring to. Catia Lawson was probably downstairs trying to run her mother's household as they spoke.

Lucius suddenly slipped out the door, just before it shut completely Pandora could hear the cameramen setting up downstairs.

Her hands struggled with the clothing as she wiggled into the outfit. Tight and thick pants hugged her skin as she fastened the button and pulled on her knee-high leather boots. The top Caradoc had chosen was white with a low cut neckline and a high collar that tickled the back of her neck.

With a thump the door flew open.

"You better hurry, that hag is getting heated!" Lucius shouted into the bathroom.

Caradoc practically growled as he tossed Pandora another piece of clothing, "Put this on!"

She studied the garment before slipping it over her shoulders. It was a black coat, which resembled a cape. It had fur trim around the collar that caressed her cheeks as she adjusted the single button. He grabbed her hands, slipping gloves onto her delicate fingers before pushing her forward.

"Just go downstairs!"

Pandora's eyes widened as Lucius moved out of the way and pointed to the stairs. She had to grab the banister to steady herself as she descended the steps, the heels of the boots were very high. Downstairs, Dash and August were doing interviews. Her mother was trying to keep and eyes on Pandora's little sister.

It made her heart hurt. She was leaving them, again.

Her boots had just reached the bottom step when Catia Lawson came into view. Far too close for Pandora's liking. "Pandora there you are! We're running late."

She winced as Catia grabbed her wrist.

"Let me look at you."

Catia's skin was now lavender, with gold lips and nails. Wisps of light green hair poke out from beyond a strange hat that was planted on top of her head. Seeing Catia reminded Pandora of the state she had been in when she was fresh out of the arena. She had tried to kill her Capitol representative in a moment of insanity. With the way she was talking to Pandora now, no one would have guessed what had happened. Apparently, Catia had recovered.

"Lovely—yes—now don't forget to smile!"

Pandora's head was spinning. Things were happening too fast.

"Pandora?! Did you hear me!?"

Her eyes squinted in pain. She had forgotten how shrill Catia's voice was.

"Yes—yes of course I heard you."

Cameramen shoved through the hallway, confusing Pandora further. Her eyes twitched to her family for a moment, stopping when she saw August. Suddenly the guilt of their fight felt unbearable.

"August—"

"Alright! Time to go!" Catia interrupted, pulling Pandora towards the door.

"Please, I just want to say something to my brother."

"No time, you can say what you need to before we get on the train. That will make for a splendid departure shot for the cameras!"

The doors blew open and flurries of snow came flying in.

"Wait—I just need to—"

"No time!" Catia repeated, "Now, smile!"

Pandora was literally pushed through the doorway, past the porch steps and onto the snow. She stumbled in place, trying to figure out how to navigate through the snow in her boots. Flashes blinded her instantly. It took her a heartbeat to remember the smile, but once she did the cameramen began cheering and egging her on. She lifted her hand in a wave, letting out a laugh before beginning the walk. Her crew followed.

A car was waiting just beyond the Victor's Village. As she climbed onto the leather seats a tense breath past her lips. Her family was being escorted into a second car. She tried to catch a glimpse of them through the tinted glass but it was hard to see. It was her family's first time in a car, Pandora was sure Dash would be amazed.

The ride to the train station was short lived and hectic. Catia was rambling on while another Capitol representative adjusted Pandora's hair and coat. It wasn't until they reached the edge of the platform that Pandora realized the meager amount of time she had left to say everything that needed to be said, to apologize.

A crowd surrounded the platform, a crowd she was sure the Capitol reps had bought over with the promise of full stomachs. They cheered as she scaled the steps and waved. Her family shyly followed her actions, simply smiling as cameras moved all around them.

Before Pandora had a chance to speak her mother pulled her into a hug. At first Pandora wanted to resist but then she felt Dash's arms around her, then August, and finally her sister. It was hard for her to hold back the tears.

The train's whistle pierced her ears.

"That's our cue!" Catia whispered, motioning for Pandora to follow.

Pandora's eyes narrowed as she noticed Lux Halstead managing to slip by all the cameras and board the train.

"Just wait!" She suddenly shouted, turning back to her family.

"August…"

His smile silenced her. "I love you, little sister."

The relief set into every bone in her body, mildly easing her anxiety. "I love you," Slowly her eyes peered to every face in her family, "I love you all."

"You still have the bracelet don't you?" Dash shouted.

A warm smile moved to her eyes as she lifted her wrist in the air and revealed the silver gleam, "Always. I'll never take it off."

"Pandora let's go! We need to make District 12 by tomorrow!"

She dropped her eyes and let go of her family. Her eyes shut as she turned away and heard her boots rap against the wooden platform. Just as she hopped on the train it started moving. Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

Though the wind lashed her face, she tilted her head out, feeling the wheels churn against the steel rails. Slowly her family turned into shadows, disappearing with the rest of District 7.

A feast waited for Pandora and the rest of the group on board the train. They laughed amongst themselves, telling jokes that she didn't understand. The only other person besides Pandora who was silent was Lux Halstead, probably because he felt the same way she did: completely lost.

After lunch the conversation quickly turned back to the Victory Tour.

"Since it's custom to end the tour in the Victor's home District we thought it would be more efficient to start backwards and then go from there. Tomorrow we'll arrive in District 12."

Pandora nodded, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened.

"It's best to stick to carefree topics for these speeches. Make an impression but don't be too specific, after all you winning means that their Tributes lost."

By lost Catia meant that they had died. Her forehead creased in worry. The idea of facing a mob that probably hated her did not sit well with Pandora. It was terrifying. How was she supposed to be carefree in a situation like that? When she had, in some cases, killed the District's Tributes.

"Okay," she mildly responded, slipping a spoonful of food into her mouth.

"I don't think we need to go over the speeches, you're brilliant at talking up an audience. I swear when they play the footage of your interviews back, it still gives me chills!"

Vibia gaily agreed, clapping her hands like a nonsensical banshee.

Pandora arched her eyebrow. It was true. She had a talent for pretending and deception. Most would view it as a flaw, but not to these people. To these people it was a treasure.

Her lips tightened and her eyes turned to the windows. She wanted to block them out, to block it all out. If she was going to do this tour that was the only way she could survive.

Just a year ago she had been snatched from her District and thrown to the wolves for entertainment. Her eyes sadly took in the changing scenery beyond the glass. She was supposed to grow up in District 7, to marry someone and have children, to live her life where her ancestors had. That was what was supposed to happen, but fate had other plans for Pandora Sullivan.

In a nook of mountains, the Capitol was waiting. If she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could see the electric city, the lights, and the vanity. In despair her heart sunk.

_Soon_, she thought, _soon_.


	4. Full Fathom Five

_Full Fathom Five_

Dawn swiftly shattered the night, licking the sky with gold and pink hues. The morning had come sooner than expected. Pandora's eyes weakly opened just as feverish knocks shook the door to her compartment.

"Dining car! 5 minutes!"

It was Catia, her voice was as shrill and grating as ever.

Pandora's nails dug into the covers. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. All night she had been riddled with fear and nightmares, it had been that way all year but now the fears seemed more urgent, more real.

A moment past before she found her footing and crawled out of bed. Though daylight tried to creep through the curtains of her compartment, she kept them closed. Now the darkness was more comforting to Pandora than anything else, she felt secure and hidden.

Sleep lingered in her legs as she made her way down the narrow corridor of the train. When she reached the glass door she peered through and sighed. Her team was cawing like crows. Catia was exchanging boisterous banter with Vibia, while Caradoc and Lucius studied some design sketches. Her hand remained on the glass doorknob, suddenly a thought crossed her mind. She could sneak away, hide with the cargo, maybe jump off the train and make do somehow. After all it couldn't just be Panem, there had to be some place else out there, some place she could runaway to. But the longer she fantasized about the escape the more unreachable it seemed.

With despair her eyes lowered.

"Pandora!"

The voice was muffled.

She looked up in surprise to see every face in the dining car staring at her through the glass. Vibia was the one who had spoken. She was waving like a maniac.

"What are you doing out there!?"

Her face hardened as she twisted the knob and felt the door give way. The smell of perfumes and food attacked her nose. Judging by the selection of cuisine the kitchen was going full force. Everything from water to strange plum desserts stared back at her.

Something to her side moved. Her eyes twitched to the corner of the dining car vigilantly. As soon as she recognized the shadow her eyes relaxed. Lux Halstead was crouched near a window. The sight of him was unsettling and discomforting. His eyes were open but they looked void and glossy. It was obvious he was too doped up to function, or even look at Pandora.

"Pandora, dear, why don't you sit?" Catia whispered as she leaned closer to Vibia.

Her obedience was more spurred by hunger than anything else. Instantly she grabbed a roll and tore it in two. She always went for the bread first, it was so warm and sweet. In District 7 there were no bakeries. Most of the diet was vegetables and herbs, only on special occasions was there meat but bread was a rarity. It was one of the only things Pandora enjoyed about being back in the Capitol's grasp. Her eyes closed in delight as her teeth broke through the thick crust and her tongue savored the taste.

"We arrive in District 12 soon."

Pandora ripped another bite out of the roll and blinked her eyes opened.

"My speech—I don't have anything prepared."

"It's better that way," Caradoc interrupted, "Makes it more spontaneous."

"Or terrible," Pandora quipped.

"Now, now!" Catia sung, "Don't be nervous. They'll love you. The only thing is—"

Pandora furrowed her brow in anticipation.

"—District 12 is very poor, they aren't used to the benefits we have."

"_We?_"

Silence. Several heartbeats of tongue-tied silence.

"Pandora, is there something you want to say?"

Catia's voice took on a superior tone. Pandora narrowed her eyes. She wanted to say everything on her mind: that they weren't a _we_, that Catia had no idea what poor meant.

Instead her eyebrow arched, "I have nothing to say to you."

Instantly, Catia's gold lips pursed in anger.

"Alright—why don't we get started on your hair and makeup, yes?" Caradoc suddenly intruded, cautiously looking between their faces.

But Pandora didn't look away, not until Catia had dropped her eyes. Tension, so tangible and heavy, filled the room. Catia deserved it, on the surface Pandora knew this, but she couldn't shake the expression that had swept over that lavender face. It was fear, but something more.

Her eyes dropped to her hands as the guilt traveled to her face. When she lifted herself from the chair, she could hear Catia drumming her talons on the glass table. Pandora pulled on the door, feeling it efficiently slide.

"_She's just so difficult_," Pandora heard Catia say to Lux Halstead before she slammed the door shut and started down the corridor.

A scoff past her lips in disbelief. If anyone was difficult it was Catia Lawson, traipsing around as if she had control over Pandora. Her arms crossed angrily, she should have run when she had the chance.

The compartment looked like it had exploded with beautician supplies within only a few minutes of her stylist team's arrival. She sullenly observed the outfit Caradoc was pulling while Lucius and Vibia worked on her.

"Look up for me," Vibia asked, having eye shadow strategically placed between her fingers.

Pandora quickly replied, forcing her lids to stay open as the brush came at her eye.

"What are you doing with the curtains closed!" Lucius exclaimed, "It's so dreary in here!"

A wince flew past her teeth as he threw open the curtains. Suddenly the unnatural beautician lights were blotted out by winter's dulled sun.

"Lucius!" Vibia hissed, "You could have ruined her eye makeup!"

"Relax, I'm doing you a favor."

A memory cracked through Pandora's thoughts. The memory of her body bleeding on the gurney with sterile lights staring back her. Her retinas were burning, just as they had that same day. The memory made her feel nauseous. She closed her eyes tighter, bending into herself like a wild animal.

It wasn't until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she gasped and straightened up.

"Pandora? Is everything okay?"

Her eyes lifted. Vibia's jeweled eyebrows were staring back at her intrusively. It took effort for Pandora to hide the pain of that single memory, self-consciously she grabbed at her leg, the one that Scorch had broken in the arena.

There had been several times throughout the year when she would have flashbacks. Sometimes the memory would pull her in for a few seconds but other times it felt real, like it was happening all over again.

"I'm—" dryness cut her words, "I'm fine."

"Let's get a move on, now. We're on a schedule."

Vibia rolled her eyes at Caradoc's voice, "Don't rush art."

Pandora's gaze shifted past Vibia's shoulder as Caradoc came into view and studied her, "Don't look so worried, Miss Sullivan. Why don't you just enjoy the view?"

Her eyes followed his nod to the windows.

"Pfft," Lucius scoffed, "Some view."

Trees were flying past the windows. They weren't like the ones in District 7. These looked like skeletons covered in snow. Curiously she straightened her back to get a better view. There were hills, but nothing like the rolling knolls and mountains of her home.

"Are we near?" She inquired, forgetting Vibia's makeup and Lucius's hands pulling on her hair.

"Only a few minutes away."

Her breath quivered.

When her makeup and hair was finished she stood up and soundless walked towards Caradoc, as if out of habit. He simply beckoned her with a finger, pulling a piece of thread off of the outfit. It took both Vibia and Caradoc to help her into her skintight pants. The pants were dark brown, with gold threading on the side that was barely noticeable to the average viewer, Caradoc was a fan of details. The shirt she wore was beige and silk, clinging to her chest and arms.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs when she realized the boots were flat and not heeled.

"Now then, just one more thing," Caradoc smiled as he revealed the coat.

It was rustic looking. The outside of the coat was made of soft brown suede, but the inside was lined with fur. That same fur made up the wide collar, which draped stiffly. There were no buttons or zippers, it was to be left open. Heat rose to her cheeks as she slipped it on, it would definitely keep her warm.

"Why all the fur?" she questioned, peering down at the long collar.

"You look good in fur," Caradoc responded, pushing her hair away from her face and sighing, "Plus, we want you to look your best, don't we?"

Her eyes darkly stared at him, "I suppose."

Suddenly the door flew open. Pandora could see Catia's reflection in the window.

"Alright we're about to pull in, let's go!"

She peered over her shoulder for a moment before following the assembly of people that had decided to gather around her compartment door. With every window she passed she tried to catch a glimpse of District 12, but it was hard to see anything with Catia pushing close behind.

Finally they stopped at a car next to the exit. Pandora rubbed her lips together as she watched the cameramen setting up. Only a few more seconds and her face would be broadcast across Panem.

She could feel the train slowing. Her gaze twitched to the windows and her brow furrowed. They were passing by manmade mounds, with elevators at the bottom. Her lips parted in confusion.

"What are those?" She whispered.

Catia cleared her throat, "Mines. District 12 supplies coal to the Capitol."

_Of course_, she thought. Pandora had forgotten. Her eyes saddened as she caught sight of men, covered in dirt and black dust, coming out of the elevators with buckets and pick axes. Some were her age and others were much older. She tried to remember the names of the Tributes from District 12 but nothing came to mind. For some reason this made sick.

With a jolt the train stopped.

"Alright—this is it!"

Pandora clenched her jaw.

"Cameras are on in 3…2…"

The cameraman waved his hand, just as a red light started blinking.

"Smile," Catia whispered in Pandora's ear, it sounded like a threat.

Abruptly the train doors slid open. Pandora adjusted her coat as the camera crew hustled out of the train and spun around to capture her image. The train platform of District 12 was in worse shape than her home District.

No applause waited for her, there was only silence.

As usual, a car was waiting at the steps of the platform. Snow fell like ash. Pandora was the first to climb in, but just before she stepped inside her eyes glanced towards a set of shanties. Instantly she froze. Near the edge of the run down buildings was a small boy, with dark hair and grey eyes. He was scraggly and obviously starving. Her heart stopped, the boy was staring right at her.

"Pandora, dear, what are you doing?"

She swallowed the sadness, forcing herself to look away before sliding onto the leather seats. When the car drove away she stared after him.

"Remember—the speech should be short and simple."

Pandora pressed her hand against the window, her eyes followed the boy. For a brief second she thought she saw him wave, but the car was moving too fast to tell.

"Pandora, did you hear me!?"

Her lips tightened, "Yes, of course—short and simple."

"Good."

"What about Lux?"

"Your mentor can barely stand, no matter though…we don't need him, do we?"

She pressed her back against the seat. Closing her eyes to block it all out. They didn't open till the car had stopped.

It was cold as she slipped out of the vehicle and followed her Capitol rep towards the Justice Building. A few paces away she could see the stage, people were already starting to congregate. Pandora was surprised by the heat that blasted her in the face as she entered the building. The District had turned it on in preparation for the tour, her ears picked up on the sound of hissing heaters as her boots pattered against the wood floor. Everything looked run down and neglected. It sobered Pandora.

Near the annex to the outdoor stage was a man. He was tall and balding.

"You must be Pandora?"

Cautiously, she stared at his extended hand, hesitating for a moment before shaking it, "Yes, Yes I am."

"Well, It's nice to meet you, I'm Mayor Undersee."

A photographer flashed a picture.

"It's nice to meet you too, sir."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Pandora's eyes dropped to see a little girl pulling on the Mayor's pants.

"Not now, honey—I'm busy."

She stared at the little girl, smiling a little before she spoke, "No, it's all right. Is this your daughter?"

"Yes, this my daughter Madge."

Pandora's smile grew as she knelt down, "Hello, Madge. I'm Pandora."

The girl shyly ducked behind her father's leg, "Hello…"

"That's a pretty dress."

"My…" she blushed a little, "My mother made it."

"So sorry," The Mayor laughed, "She's shy."

Pandora glanced up at him and smiled, another flashed blinded her from the cameras.

"It's alright—how old are you Madge?"

Instinctively the little girl looked at her dad before replying, "11. I'll be 12 soon."

"Oh—my brother Dash is around your age, I'm sure you two would be great friends."

Again the girl blushed.

Pandora continued to grin as she lifted herself off the ground and nodded to the Mayor.

"Well—" he seemed speechless. He wasn't used to Victors being so kind. "We're looking forward to your speech."

Suddenly a woman with large glasses darted into the annex, "Sir, it's time."

"Of course, please excuse me," he peered to the woman, "Can you take my daughter?"

The Mayor gave Pandora a bow before disappearing through the doors, onstage. As Madge was being escorted down the hall she looked back, waving at Pandora with a shy smile.

"That was perfect," Catia whispered, itching Pandora's ears.

Pandora leaned away from her, grimacing. It was bad enough she had to see the people from Districts of dead Tributes, she didn't need Catia hissing in her ear the entire time.

Although she couldn't hear the Mayor's speech she waited for the cue for her to go onstage. Minutes past, minutes of fear. She tried not to bite her nails, or tap her feet, knowing that she would only be scolding for it.

And then, with a gust of cold air, the doors opened.

She paused before taking the steps. The dull light stung her eyes. There was no applause, music, or sound. Pandora could hear every step she took towards the microphone. Her eyes shifted around the crowd. Dirty, scrawny faces stared at her. District 7 wasn't wealthy by any means, but this was on a different level. It was as if the joy had been sucked out lives, leaving only desolation and grief.

Her hand gently rested on the microphone handle, it was cold to the touch. Her dewy lips parted.

"Thank you, Mayor Undersee," she smiled, peering towards the row of chair were he was sitting, "Thank you for that introduction."

He nodded with a smile in reply.

"I'm so glad to be here with you guys to celebrate,"

Silence.

Pandora fingers began to tremble. The only crowds she had been exposed to were from the Capitol, she was used to cheers, whistles, and claps but not this.

"I know that me standing before you means that you have lost two of your own,"

Pandora could practically hear Catia dig her gold claws into her seat.

"I didn't know the Tributes of District 12, but standing here today I know without a shadow of a doubt that they fought bravely and honorably."

Again, there was no sound. But this time it seemed eased, less tense.

Pandora kept her speech short. As soon as she bowed her head and smiled, the Mayor rose to his feet with a bouquet of flowers.

Another set of handshakes were exchanged before Pandora was rushed through the Justice Building and into the car. Her brown eyes drearily glanced over the broken down buildings and gutted out roads. Only one image burned through her mind, the image of sorrowful faces and starving bodies. Guilt filled her. She was depressed because of her own circumstances when there were children sick with malnourishment and misery. She felt selfish.

"That was beautiful—at first I didn't know where you were going with it but that was perfect!" she heard Catia rant.

Pandora's fingers spread over her knees in despair.

"And the shots the camera crew got of you with that little girl—"

"Madge."

"—what was that?!"

Her chin nuzzled the fur of her coat, "Her name was Madge."

"Oh—"

The train whistle noted their departure. It had only been an hour and one speech but to Pandora it felt like much more. Her eyes watchfully stared out the window.

Days and Districts past.

Most of them were the same as District 12: without delight or cheer. Each time Pandora got up to give her speech it became harder.

The days were starting to muddle together. Flower bouquets crowded her compartment, keeping her company when she would wake up screaming from one of her nightmares.

In only a brief span of time she managed to see landscapes she never knew existed. The orchard fields of District 11, the wide-open plains filled with cattle in District 10. Each District was different from the next. Pandora was especially surprised in District 8 when the Mayor gave her a few yards of fine textile instead of flowers, but Caradoc seemed elated enough for the both of them.

It was when they were pulling out of District 5, with the silhouette of power stations behind them, that something caught Pandora's attention, pulling her out of the droning state she had been in.

"We're more than halfway done," Catia had said, "Only a few more Districts and then the Capitol."

"Yes," Caradoc agreed, "And tomorrow we arrive in District 4."

Pandora was cutting a piece of lamb, but quickly stopped. District 4. She had completely forgotten.

"Well, I'm sure our Victor has never even seen the ocean before—"

Pandora dropped her eyes, "Did you say we get to District 4 tomorrow?"

"Yes," Catia replied, taken off guard, "Tomorrow morning, in fact."

_Finnick_, Pandora immediately thought, trying to hide the relief she felt at the thought of him. She wondered if he would remember her, if she would even see him. Over the past year she often thought of Finnick Odair, knowing that he was the only one besides Lux Halstead that could understand what she was going through. She longed to talk to him, to know that everything would be okay for her. Suddenly her mind was going a hundred miles an hour.

She slipped a forkful of food into her mouth and blinked her eyes to the window. Anticipation suddenly drenched every inch of her body.


	5. One Foot in Sea, and One on Shore

_One Foot in Sea, and One on Shore_

The tracks bent to the will of the train. Pandora could feel the vibrations of the metal humming in her shoes.

"It's just coming up, right there…"

Vibia was to her side.

Pandora's arm pressed against the glass. It was warm and sunny, a far cry from the snow of the northern Districts.

"…just around this bend."

Her fingertips traced the window as the train curved around a crooked track. Tall grass glistened in the sunshine. Her lips parted in amazement as it came into view. An ocean, so vast and blue that it caused a shiver to travel down her spine. Sun bleached buildings stretched into the sky. All along the coast were fishing wharfs and docks.

"Look at that face," Caradoc observed from his chair, "I don't think I've ever seen Miss Sullivan so speechless."

Her eyes danced around, trying to take in the scenery before her. The tall grass continued to sway in the wind. As she narrowed her eyes she could see that sand, white as snow, anchored the roots of the blades.

The train started to slow as it rolled over the sand dunes, into town.

"How does it feel to see the ocean?"

Her eyes twitched to the owner of the voice. One of the publicity crew had his camera pointed at her face. She hadn't realized she was being filmed. Nervously she peered at Catia and then to Lux, who was nursing a water.

"I—"

A smile formed on the cameraman's face, a smile of encouragement.

"It's beautiful."

Another member of the camera crew started laughing.

Over the past few days of the Victory Tour the camera crew had taken quite a liking to Pandora. From time to time they would tease her, sometimes asking her ad-lib questions for b-role footage. There questions weren't stressed or pushy, they were eased, making her feel more comfortable than she had ever been.

A whisper of a smile warmed her eyes just before she looked away.

"It's almost showtime," Catia suddenly sang, adjusting her tight skirt as she shuffle towards Pandora, "Let's get ready."

Pandora's fingers grabbed at the walls as the team escorted her towards the nearest exit. The train stopped just as she arrived at the door.

"Now, you know the drill. Let the camera crew go first."

When the doors open her eyes lit up. She could smell the ocean. The melody of waves crashing whirled around in her head…and another sound entirely. Her head perked up, for the first time since her Tour she heard the sound of applause.

"They're clapping," she whispered, adjusting the blue dress Caradoc had thrown on her.

Vibia leaned close to her ear, "Of course, why wouldn't they?"

Pandora's brow furrowed. Her body shifted away from Vibia. District 4 was a Career District, Pandora shouldn't have been surprised that applause was waiting for her beyond the train, but it did. After all she had seen Wisty being killed. A rock formed in her gut, this was going to be harder than all the others.

"Smile," She whispered to herself, ignoring the glances she received from Catia and Lucius. Her lips stretched upward.

"Ready!" She heard one of the cameramen shout from the platform.

Vibia pinched Pandora's cheeks and Lucius adjusted her hair.

"Alright, alright!" Caradoc shouted, "Let her go!"

She felt multiple hands push her forward. Brief darkness enveloped her just before she descended the few steps of the train and emerged into the light.

As she stepped onto the platform the crowd's cheers became louder.

Out of habit she raised her hand in a wave, smiling as she noticed that there were several other camera crews waiting along the edge of the gathering.

The warm breeze blew her flowing skirt around her knees.

Her eyes slowly moved from face to face. The sunlight was so strong that it was hard to see anything, only shadows.

One particular shadow stood out in her vision. It was standing on the platform with her, just a couple paces away from her own camera crew.

She squinted her eyes with a grimace and lifted her hand for shade. The shadow quickly turned red for a moment before any distinct features came into view. When form of features finally started taking shape her heart jumped in surprise.

"Welcome to District 4."

His smile was just as she remembered, though much happier than before.

"Finnick?"

She peered to the crowd self-consciously.

The steps he took towards her were confident and firm. He was only a few inches from her when he pulled her into a hug.

Instantly the camera's flashed and the crowd cheered.

"Hello, Pandora."

Her wide eyes blinked in shock. Cautiously she backed out of the hug, trying to hold her smile for the cameras. "What are you—"

"I'm here to welcome you."

Questions read in her eyes, "Welcome me?"

"On behalf of District 4!" Finnick's voice raised as he pointed to the crowd and smiled. She watched as he nodded to one of the cameras and winked.

"If it isn't Finnick Odair!" Catia had just stepped onto the platform.

Finnick and Catia shook hands.

"Well, let's get you to a car," He peered to Pandora before leading them to a set of steps where a car was glistening in the sun.

She barely had time to register all the photos that were taken as he helped Catia and her into the vehicle and climbed in.

Pandora jerked her head around to see Lux Halstead and Caradoc filling another car.

"What a lovely surprise!" Catia cooed. "The legendary Mr. Odair. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Pandora's turned back towards her riding companions.

"The Mayor thought it would be nice if another Victor welcomed Miss Sullivan into town."

"Oh," Catia gushed, "What a wonderful idea!"

A series of high-pitched giggles erupted from her.

Pandora arched her eyebrow. It was obvious Catia was trying to flirt with Finnick.

"Isn't that nice, Pandora?"

Her eyes briefly looked to Finnick. It was hard to believe that this confident young man was the same person she had spoken to on the roof. The difference wasn't a bad thing, but puzzling. He was being flirtatious and boyish.

"Of course. Thanks, Mr. Odair," Pandora placed particular emphasis on his name, mocking the tone of his voice.

Another giggle blew past Catia's lips.

"That's a lovely hat, Miss Lawson," Finnick noted, smiling a little as he leaned against the armrest.

"Oh this old thing? It's nothing. And please—I insist you call me Catia."

"Alright, Catia."

"As long as I get to call you Finnick."

"Well, we do have first names for a reason, don't we?" His smile grew.

Catia gingerly cupped her hand over her mouth and femininely laughed.

Pandora's brown eyes twitched between the two of them, "Should I leave you two alone?"

The sarcasm left her lips before she could catch herself. Catia angrily cleared her throat and fanned herself. Finnick's green eyes widened playfully.

"So sorry," Catia breathlessly stammered, "She's a little cranky from the train ride."

"Oh, no. It's fine, completely understandable."

Pandora corner-eyed him before scoffing and turning to the windows.

Her gaze shifted to the ocean. They were riding along the boardwalk. Fishermen were docking with nets filled with fish, lobster, and crab. A few waved to the cars as they passed, others simply continued working.

It wasn't long before they had arrived at the Justice Building. Somehow the crowd had managed to beat them there. Cameras were waiting.

Her teeth chattered against her nails as she stared at the cheering swarm in a trance. All she could think about was Wisty.

"We'll take the back entrance," Finnick quickly said, waving the second car towards a small alleyway behind the building.

It was obvious from the architecture, state of the buildings and demeanor of the people that 4 was a wealthier District. The Mayor was even fat, a detail that surprised Pandora. She had only seen someone of that girth in the Capitol, where food and drinks flowed abundantly.

"Smile, dear," Catia reminded, as Pandora shook his hand and bowed. More cameras flashed.

Before Pandora knew it she was being whisked away towards the steps of the Justice Building.

"Good luck," Finnick said, only confusing her further. In all her time on the Victory Tour she had never gotten use to the rush and bustle. Her eyes briefly shifted to Finnick just before she felt Catia's claws dig into her arm.

She took her seat, trying to keep a smile on her face, something that was becoming increasingly hard. The Mayor's speech was like all the others, it was white noise, barely audible to her. She found herself looking around the crowd, trying to figure out where Wisty's family was or if they even were in attendance.

"And now the Victor of the 68th Games, Pandora Sullivan!"

The crowd applauded.

She heard Catia hiss something in her ear before she stood up and started walking towards the podium.

"Good afternoon," Pandora narrowed her eyes, gazing past the crowd at the ocean.

"I'm so honored to be able to see District 4 in all its beauty."

This statement caused a jovial uproar throughout the crowd.

Her lips hesitated, "Before I got here, I found myself wondering what I was going to say when I stood in front of you…"

Her mouth was suddenly dry. The bouquet of flowers she was cradling felt heavy

_Wisty_, she kept repeating in her head, _Wisty_.

"The day I—"

Tears were burning at the back of her throat.

"I didn't get a chance to meet the male Tribute of District 4, but I did have the good fortune to meet Wisty."

Silence fell.

That was when she saw a man and woman near the front of the crowd. They were married, or so it seemed. The man was burnt from the sun and the woman wore a pained expression. It was them: Wisty's parents. Pandora didn't need it to be said for her to know. She just knew. Her eyes sadly stayed on them.

"She was a kind girl, and I'm sorry that I couldn't—" her words stopped short as a gasp shudder out of her lungs. The microphone shrilly squeaked. "I couldn't save her."

Her heartbeat was beating so strong that she was sure everyone in the crowd could hear it. The heightened awareness of eyes on her only made it worse, but she made sure to keep the fear at bay.

"In District 7 we have a saying: _we only part to meet again_. And I like to think that somewhere—" her eyes dropped, "somewhere, beyond all this, Wisty is waiting for our next meeting."

A single tear fell down Pandora's cheek. Suddenly she knew what she needed to do. There was no way for her to make any of this right, but to never acknowledge would be wrong. Her fingers moved to brush the tear away as she lifted her eyes to the parents and backed away from the microphone.

The crowd buzzed as she sprinted down the steps. Her eyes lifted to Wisty's parents and her arm stretched the bouquet of flowers out.

"I hope you'll accept this as an offering of my condolences."

For a brief moment the woman stared, shocked, at Pandora.

"I am so sorry," Pandora whispered, blinking the mist out of her eyes.

It was the father that took the bouquet, smiling a sad smile at her before he nodded.

Cameras flashed and a cameraman she didn't recognized hustled to film what was happening.

Pandora sniffed away the tears as she climbed the steps and walked towards the microphone once more. She didn't speak again until she was sure the sting of tears was gone.

"Thank you, District 4," she simply whispered, waving as soon as the applause sounded, applause that continued until Pandora had disappeared into the Justice Building.

Instantly her entourage began clucking.

"Well that was a show stopper," Vibia said with doubt in her voice, "I've never seen any Victor do that."

"As if you hadn't won the hearts and minds of all of Panem!" Catia exclaimed, "That was fabulous."

Caradoc was the only person not smiling, his eyes narrowed as Pandora looked at him, "Be careful, dear Miss Sullivan. We wouldn't want to get too carried away—would we?"

Catia instinctively backed away, widening her eyes at Vibia before she shook her head, "It was fine, Caradoc. She was only being polite."

It was the first time Catia had stood up for Pandora.

"There's a fine line between politeness and stupidity."

Pandora's lips parted. There was a menacing tone in his words.

She knew she had overstepped her bounds. For all the time she had spent with Caradoc before the arena and after, she was afraid of him. Afraid because she knew that he had close ties to President Snow. He wasn't as harmless as the rest of her entourage. Catia may be aggravating, Vibia and Lucius condescending and vain, but Caradoc was a question mark. At one point in time, Pandora was sure he was a spy, keeping tabs on her. Standing in front him at this moment, her suspicions were only further aroused.

"Of course not, Caradoc," she quickly replied.

"That'a girl."

The condescension of his words made her feel sick. Even after he broke a smile, she was wary of speaking.

After the crowd had dispersed and the team had cooled down, a small feast was given in honor of the Victory Tour. Seafood, green and salty fish-shaped rolls, and seaweed cubes waited on trays and baskets.

It was a modest feast, but it was enough to make Pandora's head hurt.

Occasionally she would look up from her plate of food to see Finnick staring at her.

"If I'd of known you were going to give away those flowers, I would have gotten you more!" the Mayor laughed as he scarfed down a plate full of fish.

"What's the matter?! Aren't you hungry!?" He practically shouted, laughing as he jabbed her.

"I—it's delicious, it's just so much."

"You don't each much in District 7?"

"I'm sure if we had the means to, we would…"

A sharp stab from her other side reminded Pandora that Lux Halstead was sitting to her left. It was a warning to shut up, which she swiftly did. That was the way Lux had communicated throughout the Tour, looks and nudges. The morphine was so thick in his blood that it was all he could manage to do.

"Pruvi! Get me another wine!" the Mayor ordered, thankfully it seemed that in his drunken stupor he hadn't heard Pandora.

As time past and the trays and baskets emptied Pandora tried to smile and keep up conversation but it was quickly becoming exhausting.

"Please—excuse me," she finally managed to say, weaving her way through the crowd so fast that the cameras couldn't find her.

She peered back, carefully making sure she wasn't being followed, before she sprint through the doorway and down a hall. Her hands pressed on the door violently, letting it swing open as she leapt outside.

A loud gasp echoed from her and her body slouched on the wall.

It was evening. The moon hung over the ocean, sending silver and dim blue light onto the coast. Although the temperature had dropped a little, the day's warmth was still rising off the cobblestone road.

"You're missing the party."

She spun around, stunned. Finnick was leaning against the doorframe. A smile was on his face.

"I needed fresh air."

He let the door close and took a step forward, "I think I know what you mean."

"Don't let me keep you, I'm sure you and Catia have a lot to talk about."

Finnick smiled in amusement, "Like hats?"

Pandora laughed dully, "Yes, like hats."

"I think I'd rather talk to you."

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

His eyebrows rose as he looked at her, "Look whose talking. I've been watching you woo all of Panem from day one."

"That's the name of the game, isn't it? We—"

"Pretend?"

Her eyes dropped, "Yes."

"It gets easier, as time goes on."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Finnick swayed close to her, nudging her softly before speaking: "Pandora?"

She peered at him.

"Would you like to walk with me?"

Pandora wanted to say no, but somehow she nodded, letting him lead the way.

They were walking towards the beach. The noise of the feast disappeared as they descended the dunes. It was colder near the water, the breeze from the sea nipped at her nose and cheeks.

"It's so beautiful," she said after a time.

"Yes, it is," he agreed.

Pandora eyes lowered to the waves lapping on the sand, "The only time I've seen the ocean is in the arena. That one wasn't like this. It was black and cold."

A morbid chill spread through her body at the remembrance.

They didn't speak for a few heartbeats. Only the music of the ocean filled their walk.

"I've thought about you—from time to time, you know?" Finnick whispered finally, "…My friend."

She looked at his side profile in surprise. Was that what they were? He had consoled her that night on the rooftop, but it never occurred to her that she might be a friend to him.

"Friend," She repeated, "I don't have any friends, not anymore."

He shrugged subtly, "You have me, if you want."

Uncomfortably she crossed her arms and leaned away without reply.

"That was very honorable, what you did for Wisty's parents."

"I did it for myself," She lied, shaking her head as she glanced at the evening sea.

"You and I both know that's not true."

Her brow furrowed, "No—" she admitted with surprise, "It's not."

She tried to hold back but what came next just spilled out: "I just, I can't hurt anyone else, I don't know if I'll make it if I keep truly hurting the people in my life. Somehow I need to make it right."

Finnick peered at her and smirked, "I admire you."

"Admire?!"

"Your strong, maybe you don't realize that, but you are."

Her feet froze, "What makes you think I'm the least bit strong?"

"Pandora—nearly a year ago you were thrown into the arena, you watched people die, you even killed people yourself…"

"I'm still not seeing how—"

"And through all that you're able to stand in front of the cameras and crowds and smile. That's strength, no matter how small."

She blinked her eyes to the sand, "So what about you?"

"Me?"

"You said it yourself on the roof, we've been through the same thing. You know what it's like, but we don't—we don't even know each other."

Finnick's smile was unnoticeable as he crossed his arms and nodded, "You're right."

"And yet, you—you come to get me at the station, you ask me to walk with you. I don't understand. You offer friendship to me when I've done nothing to deserve it."

"When I first met you—you remember when that was?"

Pandora creased her brow as she thought back. It was a memory that had never stuck out in her mind, but once he asked she recalled it immediately, "After the opening ceremonies."

"Yes, I met you and we spoke, but only briefly and I thought, poor girl whose going to die."

"How heartwarming."

He ignored her sarcasm, "I thought that because it was inevitable. Your death was inevitable. I'm barely a man and yet, I've experienced death so much that it's all I see when I meet a new Tribute."

He was staring at the ocean now.

"I don't understand, Finnick."

His eyes lifted to the moon as a smile, so warm and unshielded that it threw Pandora off, swept across his face. "I felt dead—I was only 14 when I won—it changed me. It always changes you to experience something like we have, but to experience it when you're 14…I felt lifeless and blind. And out of all the people to remind me, it was you, it was your fight, your strength. You were a complete stranger."

He had to turn his face away, but his stance remained confident.

"You reminded me to live, Pandora."

The wind blew wisps of her hair around her face as she speechlessly stared at him. "Finnick—I don't know what to say."

"I wanted to apologize. Before your games I told you that for your sake I hope you die. I shouldn't have said that. I was wrong and angry."

Pandora tried to steady her breath. "The more days that go by, the more I think you were right."

"Don't be a fool, Pandora. I'm rarely ever right."

"Sometimes I can't help but be a fool."

When her eyes met his she noticed the faint sparkle that lingered in his green iris. "Well at least you're honest."

A boyish grin stretched across his face, a grin that she quickly reciprocated.

The wind blew past them. Silence filled the darkness of the beach. She could see stars starting to shimmer overhead.

"You know..." his words were sudden, "I think I feel like a swim."

"A swim?!"

Her eyes widened as he pulled his shirt off and started running towards the water.

"Wait!" She shouted, furrowing her brow, "What are you doing?!"

He whirled around and splashed through the waves, "You coming or not, Sullivan!?"

Her eyes twitched from left to right, "I—my dress—I can't!"

"There's a thousand dresses where that came from, don't be a wimp!"

She wiggled her toes in thought.

"Finnick, I can't!"

Her teeth raked against her lip as she slipped off her shoes.

"Your loss then!"

Her eyes narrowed as a smile formed on her lips. She broke into a run before she even realized that her feet were even moving. The sand caressed her toes and heels. Her dress flew around her legs.

She was almost to Finnick when she jumped into the air and pounced into the salty ocean. The water was warm.

His tenor laugh echoed across the beach as they splashed water at each other.

The moonlight showered them with silver rays.

The hem and skirt of her dress was practically soaked but she barely noticed. She was too busy taunting him, her footsteps were light and free.

It wasn't until she heard a familiar voice that she stopped to take a breath.

"PANDORA!"

Loose strands blew across her face as she stumbled around to see Catia at the top of the dunes looking down at them.

"What do you think you're doing!?"

Her eyes widened, suddenly she remembered where she was and why. Instantly the smile disappeared from her face.

"Catia—I—" she yelped as a waves crashed against her ankles and pushed her forward.

Finnick was walking close behind.

"I was just talking."

"I see that," Catia had made her down the dunes and was intrusively eyeing both of them, "We need to leave."

Pandora brushed the hair away from her face, "Of course."

"Mr. Odair," She whispered, bowing her head with smile before she grabbed Pandora's wrist.

Pandora looked back at Finnick and parted her lips.

That warm grin appeared again. His hands swiftly wiped the salt water away from his eyes.

"Goodbye," she whispered.

He gazed back at her.

"_We only part to meet again_," his words melded with the sound of waves.

It took her off guard, but somehow she managed a smile. The first weightless smile she had felt in a long time.

"Pandora—C'mon! We're on a schedule!"

Even after Catia had pulled her up the dunes and towards the car, Pandora found herself looking back, back on the ocean. It had meant more to her than she would have ever believed. That single moment of solace, that drop of time reminded her that all was not lost.

Her eyes turned to the south, where District 4 was quickly disappearing. A low sigh whistled past her lips. A whisper stirred inside her, the subtle breathe of life.


	6. The Fringed Curtains of Thine Eyes

_The Fringed Curtains of Thine Eyes Advance _

Minutes turned to hours, hours to days.

The Victory Tour was nearing its close and, though Pandora found comfort in her newfound bond with Finnick and the beach of District 4, there was mystery and darkness on the horizon. If there was one thing her experience with the Capitol had taught her, it was not to only expect the unexpected but prepare for it. The only problem was she didn't know how to prepare for the unknown that waited for her beyond the Tour. All she could do was wait. Time was ticking away.

Entering into the heavily guarded parameters of District 3 struck Pandora with equal awe and devastation. It was the technological hub of Panem, full of engineers and factory workers. Despite all of this, Pandora noticed the tragic poverty of the people. It was hard to look at their faces, to see the hate and spite. She had watched one of their own fall prey to the sonar eels, the muttations that nearly dragged her to the bottom of the arena's sewers. Their eerie songs still penetrated her mind from time to time, in her nightmares she would see the glow if their bodies surrounding her.

The stay in District 3 was brief, something that Pandora was unapologetically thankful for. But there was no ease, there wouldn't be for a long while. The worst was yet to come.

_District 2_.

Her eyes gravely stared at the rising sun. She hadn't slept all night. She couldn't. This was the District she had feared from the beginning. Petro and Nova's District.

"Hold still!" Lucius was pulling her hair into a ponytail, humming as he did so.

The train zoomed through a tunnel.

"Don't yell at her!" Vibia hissed, "She's nervous, can't you see?"

Pandora dropped her eyes, pretending they weren't there.

"Don't you worry about any of this!" She continued, tilting Pandora's chin up to brush a glimmer on her cheeks. "They'll love you, just like all the rest."

Pandora clenched her jaw. It was as if Vibia was on another planet. If there was anything that divulged how bitter the Districts of Panem were with Pandora, it was this Victory Tour. It made Pandora doubt her past choices, it made her wish that there were a way she could go back and do things differently. She rubbed her lips together, suddenly an image of Marius's smile whistled through her head.

"I don't need to be coddled, Vibia," her voice was low and harsh when she finally broke from her bout of nostalgia and replied.

"I know that," Vibia quickly reacted, peering at Lucius with offence in her eyes. "I—I was just trying to make you feel better."

For a moment Pandora felt remorseful. Vibia sounded so sincere, it was obvious she believed her own words. The problem was that Pandora didn't believe them. Through all the arrogance and naïve comments Vibia forced on her, Pandora believed that deep down she was a good person, something she couldn't say for the rest of her stylist team. Lucius was a pompous ass and Caradoc was snake-like. But it didn't matter to Pandora, likeability didn't amount to anything in her eyes, not anymore. She couldn't trust any of them, that was something she knew without a shadow of a doubt.

"Let's get this dress on you—we're coming up on the District now!" Caradoc breathless yelled as he threw open her compartment door and heaved in a rack of cloths.

"We aren't finished!"

Caradoc's eyes shrewdly moved from Lucius to Vibia, "You're finished when I say you're finished."

"Caradoc—"

"Pandora, robe off, now!"

She dropped her eyes before hastily shedding her robe. Her arms crossed as she inched closer to see the dress Caradoc had revealed. It was long sleeved with a deep burgundy hue. She felt her ribs tighten as he fastened the back.

"Ah!" She yelped, feeling Caradoc grab her wrist and pull her past the rest of her entourage, towards the exit.

"Slow down!" She shouted. Her eyes twitched to the windows that they passed. The frequent tunnels made it hard to get a good view of the District.

"There she is!" Catia exclaimed, "Now, now—come here."

Pandora practically growled as Catia's gold talons pulled her close to the doors.

With a jolt the train finally emerged from the last tunnel. Her eyes widened. Quarries were carved into surrounding mountains. Chunks of rock traveled in carts to buildings on lower tiers of the slopes. 2 was one of the Districts that the Capitol had taken under their wings after the Dark Days. Although the citizens had to labor in quarries, they still had more food and care from the Capitol than the others. The buildings and structures of District 2 were constructed from the same rock they harvested from their mountains.

"A note—" Catia whispered, "Keep this one particularly short."

Pandora nodded in agreement. They both knew why she needed to stay brief.

Just as the train started to slow the doors opened. Mountain air reached her nose. It was thin, reminding Pandora of the first time she was received in the Capitol. Her teeth racked against her bottom lip at the thought.

The station to District 2 rested near the square. Even though a tall blockade hindered her view of the square, she could hear the crowd beyond the wall. Her eyes darted around when she felt Catia pull her towards a flight of stone steps.

Peacekeepers ushered her to a running car, keeping close as they moved. She could feel her chest tighten and her breath hitch. The gun dangling from the belt of one of the soldiers was staring at her.

Once she was in the car, she furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. "Isn't the Justice Building right there? We could have walked."

"No," Catia angrily disagreed.

"I don't see why not."

"Pandora—" Lux Halstead rasped, he was particularly lucid today. "No."

She drew back in shock, a flush rose on her cheeks, "I don't—"

"You heard what Lux said!" Catia insisted.

Pandora's lips parted. Apparently she wasn't the only person on edge.

Lines of Peacekeepers marched along the roadside, barely glancing at the cars. They were as stoic and mechanical as robots.

"Why are there so many Peacekeepers?"

"This is where they're trained," Catia whispered back. For the first time since Pandora could remember she realized that her representative appeared nervous.

Shadows fell over them as they advanced towards the Justice Building. The car slowed soon after.

A puff of breath visibly drifted from her lips as she stepped out of the car and followed her escorts to a set of silver doors. A maze of hallways was waiting for them. Normally she would have chatted with the Mayor, but he was nowhere to be seen. When she asked Catia about this, no response was given. It shocked Pandora how cautious everyone was being. Even the cameramen hesitated to take pictures or film.

Unexpectedly, the group wasn't led close to the stage, but to a small room with only a few couches. Time passed slower than humanly possible. Occasionally she would hear Caradoc groan in annoyance, with a shrill squeak form Catia quickly following.

"Don't they know we're on a schedule?!" Vibia asked, rubbing her sharp cheekbones.

"Of course," Lucius angrily replied.

"Then why are they making us wait so long?!"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Pandora ominously turned her face to the windows. Yes, it was obvious.

"Lucius!" Caradoc whispered. The blaze in his eyes when he looked at the hairstylist was enough to make anyone's blood run cold, "Shut your mouth."

More minutes past.

When the door finally whipped open Vibia yelped in surprise. A woman with a tight bun and long face stared dully at them.

"It's time, follow me."

A stressed sigh exhaled from Caradoc. He glared at the woman with such animosity before beckoning Pandora to her feet that she froze for a moment in fright.

Ever since District 4, Caradoc had taken a more hands on approach to Pandora's affairs. Perhaps it was because of her all too heart-warming speech, or the fact that she snuck away with Finnick for a brief time. Either way, the switch that had occurred was alarming. A grimace formed on her brow and lips as she felt his hands on her shoulders.

Narrow corridors led the way to the entrance of the building. Pandora quickly peered to her side. Lucius was checking the time on his pocket watch.

She tensely grabbed at the bracelet around her wrist, pursing her lips as they approach the doors to the stage.

"Psst!"

Her eyes shifted to a cameraman, he was filming her. He pointed to his mouth and grinned, "Remember?!"

She swallowed the dryness in her mouth and nodded. The smile was static and strained, but it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

With a crack so loud and clear that it hurt her ears, the doors parted. Light shed into the hall and a cold air sliced through the fabric of her dress.

She wanted to stay in the shadows. Her feet hesitated to move.

"What are you waiting for, dear?" She heard Catia whisper.

Her jaw clenched as she took the first step, then the second.

The crowd didn't come into view until she was well past the doors. The square of District 2 was much larger than all the others. It was as hollow and cavernous as the quarries surrounding the center of town.

She moved closer and closer towards the microphone, her heartbeat matched her footsteps.

Peacekeepers were waiting behind her, flanking the doors.

Her hand reached for the microphone. She tried to find something to stare at in the distance but all she saw were the faces of the crowd. Some looked indifferent, others crudely muted, and then there were the most frightening faces, the faces that stared at her with condemnation and cruelty. This wasn't a District that was used to losing one of their Tributes. The fact that she was standing before them only reminded them of that.

Suddenly she was at a loss for words.

"Hello—" was all she managed to say.

Her voice echoed through the square.

A shocking tremor of applause shook the ground. They were clapping, but there expressions didn't match the feigned joy.

"It's an honor to stand before you today."

Silently they were blaming her for the deaths of their Tributes. Her eyes closed for an instant as the memory of Nova's lifeless eyes and Petro's mangled body surfaced. Her breaths deepened. She needed to keep it together.

"As a token of my gratitude for your kind acceptance, I'd like to thank each of you today for your presence and praise. I know—I know I don't deserve it—"

Her voice broke as the crowd parted near the front.

Her gaze lowered to see a giant of a man, with eyes full of sorrow.

Instinctively she looked away, shifting her eyes to Lux and Catia who were waiting just a few paces to her left. She could see that Catia's face was growing rigid.

"For a District as strong and stable as 2, I expect nothing less than what I've seen today—"

This was beyond a lie, but something needed to be said, anything to distract from the tension.

"I thank you all!"

The stale claps sounded again as she moved her lips away from the mic and glanced around.

_Just breathe_, she thought, lowering her eyes to the ground.

She had just turned away when a shout bellowed from the crowd.

"You!"

Her dress danced around her knees as Pandora spun around and widened her eyes. It was the man. He was moving past the crowd now. The sorrow on in his eyes was morphing into animalistic rage.

"You, murderer!"

Her eyes widened in horror. She had thought this about herself time and time again, but never had someone called her a killer, a murderer. Ice filled her cheeks.

Before Pandora had time to react she saw it: a rock in his hands.

He launched it violently into the air, sending it right into her shoulder.

Something cracked.

A pained scream echoed from her as she fell to the ground.

"Pandora!"

Suddenly she was back in the arena with Petro's hands around her throat.

Blood streamed down her face as her head smashed against the stone steps. Her hand clasped against her shoulder.

She felt the shard of metal slip into Nova's body, again.

_No_, she whispered to herself, _Get up! Push it out, push out the memories_…

Chaos suddenly erupted in the crowd.

"Murderer!" She heard the man repeat with a guttural yell.

The citizens of District 2 were dispersing like cockroaches.

Her eyes spastically twitched to him. He was walking towards her now.

"Hel—" She parted her lips to speak, but something was stopping her.

Her eyes squinted in pain as she pushed herself away from the steps.

"Help me!" She shrieked, unable to look away from her attacker.

He was getting closer. Her feet shuffled backwards. She could feel the sting of the hit throughout her chest and arm.

It was something out of one of her nightmares. Her head crooked to the side as she struggled to climb to her feet.

And then, unexpectedly and sharply, a shot rang out.

"Back away!" It was a Peacekeeper.

She gasped as she felt someone grab her, it took little effort for the solider to pull Pandora to her feet. She jerked her head from left to right. The memories, they were starting to boil over.

"Get her out of here!" Someone shouted.

An inherent scream roared from Pandora as one of the Peacekeepers picked her up and carried her towards the closing doors. Her heart raced as tears of pain streamed down her face. Things were becoming hazy.

Memories were cracking through her mind. Memories of blood, death, and cold. Marius' face, Nova's eyes, Petro's hate…Scorch's foaming mouth...images that were flickering so fast and violently that it was hard for her to hold back the blood-curdling scream that came next.

Just before the doors closed, her eyes anxiously lifted to see the Peacekeeper fire a single shot into the man's skull.


	7. What's Past is Prologue

_What's Past is Prologue _

_It's dark. _

_The cracks of memories and repressed agony are whispering to her. _

_First she feels the cold in her fingertips but it quickly travels to the rest of her body. It ends in her eyes, her eyes that slowly lift. _

_Snow falls. It always does in these dreams, these nightmares. _

"_Will we meet through the pine?"_

_A puff of breath harshly swells from her lips as she spins around and straightens her back. _

"_Who is that?!"_

"_The leaves are green and fine." _

_Her heart thumps against her chest. She needs to run. She needs to move. This is something she knows. _

_When her feet push against the ground a cry breaks through the cold. She's clawing at the walls, at the earth, anything she can find. _

_A fire near the horizon is waiting for her, taunting her with its wild blazes. _

_It isn't until she reaches the edge of the dancing flames that she stops and hears it. _

_A cannon booms. A cannon, so familiar and clear. _

"_Will we meet through the pine?" _

_Painfully she looks into the flares. Initially it's just another fire, but through the wisps of heat she can see them…_

_Bodies. _

_Dead bodies. _

_One piled on top of the other. _

_They all look familiar, but there's only one that sticks out. _

_A scream of horror echoes from her as she drops to the ground and looks at his face. _

"_Dash!" _

_Her lips purse with a mournful whimper. Her hands bat at the flames, but they're too strong to overtake. _

"_Wake up!" _

_She gasps as, if on cue, his eyes open. _

_His big brown eyes look black as coal and reflect the fire. _

"_Will we meet through the pine?"_

_Her head shakes in disbelief and her hands clasp against her ears, "NO! Stop it!" _

_Unnaturally Dash's head tilts from left to right, "Isn't that what you sang? You sang for us?"_

"_I didn't mean to—" _

"_You're sorry?"_

_Tears are streaming down her cheeks, "Yes." _

_Another cannon booms. _

_Dash's dark eyes gleam sinisterly, "There goes another one. What are we going to do about you? Everywhere you go death follows."_

_Her lips are parted in horror. _

"_You always seem to kill us." _

"_No…" _

"_You couldn't save any of us. You didn't want to." _

"_Stop!" _

"_And now you're all alone." _

_The laugh that seethes out of Dash's mouth is coated in malice and darkness. It's haunting. _

"_You aren't my brother!" _

"Pandora—Pandora get up!"

_Something is breaking through the darkness. _

_Her eyes lift. _

"_How long do you think I have? A day? Maybe a year?"_

_Pandora eyes flutter, "Shut up." _

"_You murderer." _

"_I said shut up!" _

"Pandora!"

Sterile air filled her lungs and her eyes flashed open. Her body lurched forward. She wasn't awake for more than a few seconds before she tasted her own bile.

"Oh my god," Catia whispered, backing away as Pandora leaned over to throw up.

"Pandora, you have to lay down," the voice felt distant but familiar.

"Lux?"

"Woah,"

Her eyes opened in exhaustion to see his arms reach for dangling body. She wince as he helped her back onto the sofa.

"Just lay down."

"I'm on the train?" Pandora whispered in confusion

"She's not going to make it to District 1," Vibia clucked, "She needs to rest more!"

"There isn't a choice, this is the only option. We're on a schedule!" Catia yelled back.

Suddenly Pandora felt the sting in her shoulder and her head.

"The man—"

Her eyes widened as she remembered the quick execution of her attacker. A single bullet sent him collapsing to the ground.

"Everything is alright," Lux quickly comforted, "We're out of there, you don't need to worry."

"He's dead?"

For a moment Pandora questioned the memory, was it another one of her nightmares?

Lux sadly peered to Catia and leaned away, "He wouldn't stand off, they had to shoot him."

"She needs to rest more!" Vibia insisted.

Pandora slowly sat up, dropping her eyes to her shoulder and rubbing her head. To her amazement she couldn't feel the gash on her head or see bruising along her collarbone and shoulder. There was only an aching sting.

"We had the medics take care of that," Caradoc suddenly chimed in.

With puzzlement she traced her skin, "My head, I was bleeding—I felt something crack in my shoulder."

"That's because the rock knocked your shoulder out of socket, the medics put that back in."

"How am I healed? I was bleeding and hurt. It's barely been a few hours, hasn't it?"

"Medicine straight from the Capitol," Catia explained, "Costs a pretty penny too, but anything for their Victor. Though to be fair there is still a little bit of a cut on your forehead from that fall."

"Luckily the camera crew cut the cameras before the attack," Lucius whispered, "Otherwise all of Panem would know what a martyr you are."

"Just because she's been healed doesn't mean she can't rest," Vibia interrupted, "She needs to rest. We should skip District 1. The medicine has some side affects."

"Side affects?"

She squinted her eyes at the windows. Judging by the position of the sun it was mid afternoon. The sunlight was so bright that it hurt to face.

"Vibia, we've been over this—if we don't show up to District 1 it will only make things worse," Caradoc quickly retorted.

"But—"

"No—" Pandora suddenly intruded, "No, Caradoc and Catia are right. I can do this."

In astonishment Vibia shook her head, "Pandora, you don't need to. Rest would be good for you."

Her lips curled in disgust, "I don't want to rest."

"Pandora—"

"I said I don't want to rest!"

Silence fell.

Although Pandora was well aware of the shock that overtook her entourage she ignored their looks and gasps. Her brow furrowed as she rose to her feet and sighed, "I should get dressed, we'll be there soon."

In shock, Caradoc nodded, "Of course. Of course we should."

Her legs felt weak but she refused help.

It didn't take long for them to dress her and redo her makeup and hair. Caradoc tossed her the clothing. It was a tightly fitted gold top with leather pants and boots. Her eyes stared at her reflection in scrutiny. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago she was being thrown to the stone ground and attacked by an angry citizen.

"If you need some water—"

"I'm not thirsty," She whispered the lie.

Caradoc lowered the pitcher, peering at Vibia and Lucius, "Maybe you should sit."

Apparently he was feeling concerned, something that Pandora found dark humor in.

"If you continue to baby me. I will become very agitated, Caradoc."

Her words were harsh and severe. She couldn't hide it anymore. It was the last straw. Somehow she had managed to pull herself together but it dulling her emotions. She suddenly felt numb.

"You're upset about the man?"

"No."

"Pandora, dear, it's fine to be upset about what happened."

Slowly her eyes darkened and her posture straightened, "I already told you I'm not upset, can we drop it, _dear_?"

They were looking at her with sympathy. It bothered Pandora. She wanted to scream at them, to tell them she's dealt with far worse. Of course she was upset, of course she was thirsty and tired, but she wasn't weak. There would be no satisfaction had for the people of District 2. This afternoon they would see her on their screens, in their well-kept homes, and know that Pandora Sullivan is not weak, that death and blood don't affect her.

"_District 1, coming up on it now!" _An unfamiliar voice shouted through the door.

She adjusted the black earrings Caradoc gave her and cleared her throat, "We should go."

"Of—of course."

This time no one pushed her towards the exit. She didn't need to be pushed. Her eyes stared ahead with determination. She nodded to the camera crew and maneuvered her body in front of the doors.

District 1, luxury goods.

"Camera's on in…3…2…1."

Her lips drew upward effortlessly and her eyes turned to the cameras.

When the doors open the roar of applause blasted her.

Her feet confidently stepped on the platform and her eyes roved around the crowd. Instantly the camera crew surrounded her, filming and taking pictures. She made extra care to wink at the camera and wave before letting out a laugh.

If she was going to pretend, she was going to give it her all.

Without discretion she took a few steps forward and bowed to the mob that surrounded the platform.

District 1's buildings were constructed out of gleaming metal. In the afternoon sunlight it was blinding. The air smelt clean and icy. Just beyond the buildings the mountains, which nestled the Capitol, were just in view.

Pandora kept the smile on her face throughout the speech, accepting applause and gifts from the Mayor with feigned sincerity. Everyone, including the camera crew were going wild.

"It's like the opening ceremonies and interviews all over again!" Vibia exclaimed as they boarded the train and waved to the goodbye crowd. Evidently she had forgotten about everything that had happened in District 2.

"Marvelous speech! You had them going!" Lucius added, swinging the bottle of wine the Mayor gave Pandora in his hand.

Caradoc nodded quietly, adjusting his leather jacket as he lowered himself into the seat and stared at Pandora, "Our girl has some true talent."

The comment caused her to look at him. When they're eyes met she felt like ice.

The train pushed forward, surfing the rails high into the mountains. The Capitol was only an hour away.

"I'm going to get some rest before we enter the Capitol," Pandora said, calmly climbing to her feet, "Call me when we arrive."

She retreated into her cabin, but she didn't sleep. The fear of nightmares was too strong for her to enjoy any more rest. All she did was sit in front of the windows and stare. She watched as the sun slowly dropped from the sky. Gloom filled her compartment every time they traveled through a tunnel. Each time the train emerged the sky became darker and darker.

She hadn't realized how much time had passed until a single knock interrupted her thoughts.

Before she had a chance to respond she heard the doorknob turn.

"You're supposed to be resting."

Her knuckles pressed against her jaw. Her eyes dropped.

"I don't remember how to anymore."

"They're saying you're a true champion. Braving through the attack that happened today."

She could feel the motion of train.

"And what do you think?"

Lux Halstead let the door close as he stumbled to the nearest chair and blinked his glazy yellow eyes.

"You said his name."

"What?"

"In your sleep."

Suddenly her mouth was dry. Her eyes shifted to him. The blood was leeching out of her face. She knew exactly who _he_ was.

"It was barely a whisper," he rasped.

Her heart pounded against her chest.

"I think you should leave."

"Marius was a fine fellow, I wish I had said that to him. I wish had said a lot more than I had."

Her hand dropped from her jaw. She could feel the bitterness filtering into her bones.

"I don't care how you feel about him, Lux."

A whisper of a laugh escaped him as he hunched forward and scratched at his neck, "You never say his name. Why?"

Her fingers drummed on the table, "Drop it."

"So that's how you deal with it? You just pretend it never happened. You'd rather be a puppet than a human being?"

Her brow furrowed. Rage instantly overtook every part of her body, "Get out!"

"You need to feel, Pandora. You need to feel or you'll never live again. Breathing doesn't mean living."

"This coming from a worthless morphling who can hardly go to bathroom without help?!"She could see his face go purple. The same familiar hue that she had seen from Lux when he was her mentor, "You can barely stand and you want to help me? Help yourself."

"You were attacked today by a man that would have killed you if someone hadn't helped. Pandora, you were in hysterics. You thought you were back in the arena. This is not healthy. I'm concerned!"

Suddenly she was on her feet, her eyes narrowed, "We haven't spoken in a year. The only thing you're concerned about is when you're going to get your next fix."

"You're trying to train yourself to feel numb. That's not how this is supposed to work. At some point you are going to start living a lie. Now, the rest of those fools may be okay with that, but I'm not and I know deep down you aren't either. I believe you are braver than that. Pretending you are fine is not the same as being fine."

"I don't need you're help!" The snarl was so sharp and livid that it caused Lux to draw back. Another scream roared from her as she grabbed a vase and threw it on the floor.

Strands of hair fell in front of her face as she panted for air and glowered, "I want you to leave."

"Pandora—"

"Leave!"

Without warning the door swung open.

Catia's silhouette lingered in the doorway.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

Pandora rubbed her head, instantly looking away.

Lux abruptly climbed to his feet and pushed past Catia, disappearing down the corridor.

"What's wrong with him?" Catia asked, perfecting her gold lips as she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Pandora was still pacing, "Where to begin?"

"Is that the crystal vase District 1's Mayor gave you?! It's completely ruined!"

"Catia," she was trying to steady her breath, "Is there something you need?"

"Well, what's got into you? You look flustered."

Pandora froze suddenly and placed her hands over her face, "What do you want, Catia?"

The Capitol escort's attention turned back to her reflection, "It's almost time."

Swiftly Pandora's eyes opened. Her hands dropped. She stared at Catia for moment before looking towards the windows. Past the glass were the city lights. At the rate the train was going, they'd be at Capitol very soon.

"You look surprised."

"The Capitol…"

"Yes! The fun is just beginning."

A dark laugh simmered from Pandora, if only Catia knew the truth of her own words.

She followed Catia through the train cars.

"Don't worry," Vibia assured her, "they won't really see you till the ball. Just a few waves from the car and smiles…always smiles."

"The ball?" Pandora asked curiously.

"A ball held in honor of you, the Capitol always holds one for the Victor."

The mountain breeze blew snow in as the train doors opened. Her hands grappled with the fabric of her coat as she was shepherded to the car. Her eyes widened at the sound of the cheering crowd.

The first stop they made was for Pandora to be made up for the grand feast and dance. The Capitol had set them up with a room and bath so that she could look her best for the festivities they had planned. It was opulent and frivolous, just as Pandora had remembered the Capitol to be.

Once they were tucked back in the car Catia started rambling again.

"Are you sure everything is fine between you and Lux?"

Pandora slinked into the shadow of the car and stared out the window. Her eyes lifted to the blinding ads. She caught sight of her own face on a few, moving and still pictures from the Hunger Games.

Pandora didn't reply to Catia's question. Instead her eyes remained on the scenery, on the crowds.

They were heading for the City Circle. Each street was just as crowded as the next. Just as Vibia had said, emerald green was everywhere. If it wasn't in the hair or makeup of the citizens, it was in their clothes and accessories. The car lurched forward slowly, letting every bit of the crowd catch a glimpse of the Victor's car. In the distance fireworks were lighting the night sky with explosions of colorful fire. Music filled the air.

Her heart chilled as they rounded the bend. The President's Mansion was only a few blocks away.

"Isn't this elegant?!" Catia whispered, "Look at all those roses."

They were just pulling into the mansion now.

White roses lined a red carpet, and even more petals were trickling down. Camera crews were set up along the way, waiting for Pandora's emergence.

"What a entrance you'll make."

The car stopped as a loud crescendo of music and applause shook her.

"Here we go!" Catia hissed with far too much merriment.

The door opened. Dazzling light fell into the car. Pandora took one final breath before stepping into the light and out of the vehicle.

The amount of flashes and screams that erupted were more than any of the Districts combined, but there was no time for bewilderment. Immediately, Pandora forced herself to smile and lift her hand. She grabbed the skirt of the gown and threw it behind her legs as she took the assured steps down the rose-laden carpet.

With all the excitement and frustration she had barely realized what she was wearing until she looked up to the screen surrounding the City Circle. Her violet gown stood out against fair skin. Her brown eyes dazzled with gold.

She should have felt like a champion, but she didn't.

The wind blew strands of her hair around her face as she moved closer and closer to the entry. It wasn't until she looked up that she saw the familiar face. Caesar Flickerman was waiting with his microphone in hand.

"Pandora Sullivan!"

He grabbed her hand as soon as she was close enough.

"We've been waiting a long time for you. How does it feel to be back in the spotlight?"

The camera crooned closer to them. Unlike all the other interviews of the past, these weren't to make an impression so she could escape death in the arena, this interview was to charm the crowd. Her smile broadened as she peered at Caesar.

"Daunting!" She quipped with a charismatic laugh.

He chuckled joyously and clapped, "You look beautiful tonight."

"As do you, I see you're still wearing your favorite Victor's colors," She playfully brushed the emerald fabric of his suit and winked at the camera.

"Favorite Victor? Pandora, that was supposed to be between you and me…" he continued to joke, leaning closer to her with the widest smile she had ever seen.

Cheers and whistles surrounded them.

"I must say you have left all of Panem begging for more! I, even, found myself counting down the days till your return to the Capitol."

"We'll it's a beautiful place. Though it could use a few more trees."

Caesar laughed, "Yes, well there are no shortage of trees in District 7."

Pandora briefly peered around to see her entourage being escorted into the mansion. Her eyes lingered on Lux. Briefly her smile wavered.

"I thought tonight would never get here. And now that I'm here with you I'm at a loss for questions."

Her eyes shifted back to Caesar.

_Smile_, she reminded herself, _smile_.

"So, what you're saying is you missed me?"

The playful question caused the entire City Circle to ignite in applause and chants.

Caesar's eyes darted around as he beamed a smile at the cameras, "Well, I think that answers the question. Pandora—thank you."

"No, thank you," She politely responded, ignoring his hand to hug him. She kissed him on the cheek as she had done for her closing interview the year before.

Her eyes closed as she walked through the falling rose petals and ascended the mansion's steps.

The banquet hall wasn't hard to find. Garlands and candles filled the marble faced and floored room. It was elaborate and intimidating.

As she entered applause erupted and cameras flashed, but slowly the cavernous room calmed down. The food was just as she remembered it, rich and heavy. Drinks and tonics of all kinds waited on trays and tables. In the center of the hall was a dance floor, filled with drunk and wild Capitol citizens.

Although Pandora hadn't seen the President, she was sure that he was present, waiting in the shadows for her.

She bantered and laughed when she was supposed to. Smiling at people she would otherwise loathe and exchanging pleasantries with complete strangers. At the appetizer table Artorius Flemming, the Head Gamemaker, caught her.

"Well, if it isn't Pandora Sullivan!"

Her eyes widened at the man's garish appearance, "Mr. Flemming," she managed to say, realizing instantly that they had never actually exchanged words.

"I've been waiting to talk to you."

"Oh? I can' t imagine why."

"Can't you? You're a celebrity."

Her lips curled as she took a sip of her drink and attempted a smile, "Thanks to you."

"I merely set up the games, it's really nothing."

The Flemming family was like Capitol royalty. Although Artorius wasn't as powerful as President Snow, he had just as many perks.

"I don't know about that," she slyly responded, "There was that whole toxic gas business, wasn't there?"

It was a calculated question. The toxic gas had killed Marius and Petro, it would have killed her if it wasn't for the serum President Snow had forced on Pandora. Her eyes narrowed at the surprised expression on the man's face.

"Well, yes—I mean—I suppose."

"That was a very clever trick," She continued, "A game changer."

Artorius's rosy cheeks suddenly became rosier. He mumbled something inaudible as he shoved some food into his mouth and chugged his tonic. It was grotesque for Pandora to watch, he ate as if he didn't know what starvation was.

He had just swallowed his last mouthful when he looked up and narrowed his eyes at someone behind Pandora, "Well if it isn't, Adric Pedersen!?"

She nearly spewed her drink. Her muscles tightened, "What did you just say?"

"Adric, come over here!"

She lowered her glass, glimpsing to her side just in time to see him.

His hair was blonder than she remembered. He wore the black uniform of an officer, but a youthful light lingered in his dark eyes. Suddenly she was a year younger, back on the platform of the Capitol.

Her hand instinctively moved to the bracelet on her wrist. Though Dash had given it to her, now every time she looked at it she saw Adric's face.

"Miss Sullivan," he said in surprise.

She speechless stared.

"I didn't know you two knew each other!" Artorius gaily exclaimed.

"We don't," Pandora managed, uncomfortably shifting away.

Adric clear his throat and tried to smile, "I'm afraid she's right, we only briefly met once or twice before."

"Yes, oh I see—well, I hear you got another medal. I'm sure Trajan is elated."

"My father does take pride in my accomplishments. Thank you, sir."

"Soon you'll be a General too."

Pandora dropped her eyes. Of course, Adric would be from a family of military officials.

"Not for a while. My father has some very large shoes to fill," He replied.

"My son refuses to even try on my shoes!"

"Well, Kol has always been a trouble-maker hasn't he?"

The comment made the Gamemaker belt a laugh out that hurt Pandora's ears.

Violins swelled, the song was changing.

Artorius hummed the melody and snatched another handful of appetizers, "Well, aren't you going to ask our Victor to dance?"

"No," Pandora harshly answered for Adric.

Adric peered at her, "I don't think that would be appropriate, Artorius."

"Nonsense, this song can't _not_ be danced to!"

She tried to look away but she could feel the Head Gamemaker's eyes on her.

"I insist that you two dance."

She wanted to murder him right then and there. He was speaking as if he had room to insist anything from her.

"Perhaps we can get it on camera, that would make a lovely shot! The Victor dancing with one of our military."

Pandora eyes widened in terror.

Adric noticed and shook his head, "Artorius, no. I think you're frightening, Miss Sullivan."

"Ha! Rubbish, this flower has some thorns, I can tell."

Her jaw clenched. Anything would be better than listening to this man speak.

"Fine," she conceded.

"What?"

Pandora looked at Adric and put her glass down, "Are you going to ask me to dance or not?"

He tilted his head in shock, "I—are—do you want to dance?"

She slid her hand into his and practically led him to the dance floor.

Heart beats past. Adric silently led in the dance, ignoring the obvious bitterness in Pandora's posture and eyes. The violins and piano tangled into an intricate harmony.

"You didn't have to dance with me," He finally whispered.

She kept her eyes on anything but him, "It was better than continuing my discussion with that awful man."

"So I'm a step up from awful?"

She twitched her eyes to him in shock. He was making a joke. Adric wasn't looking at her, but he was smiling.

"He said your father was a general. Is that why you're an officer and you're only 18?"

"You remember my age?"

"You practically arrested me when I first arrived in the Capitol, it's hard to forget any of that. Of course, I remember."

"19."

"What?"

"I'm 19, now. A year has gone by, don't you remember?"

Her lips pursed at his sarcastic remark, "You haven't answered my question."

He spun her around, smirking as he pulled her back in.

"Oh, questions, right—yes. Yes, my father is a general. Whether that has anything to do with me being an officer, I have no clue…though I suppose what you're implying is correct."

Slowly Adric peered at the bracelet on her wrist for moment before looking away. Suddenly Pandora felt self-conscious. All she could think about was that morning on the platform. He had apologized, he had tried to show that he was sorry but there was no way Pandora could accept it. Even with the sincerity and kindness he had shown her in those few moments she couldn't forgive him. She hated everything that he was a part of, the Capitol, the tyranny. She hated all of it and in a way hated him.

"Why did you apologize to me?" the words left her lips before she could stop them.

"What?"

"I want to know why."

His dark eyes stared into hers. As she looked into tem she noticed they weren't dark brown, as she had thought, but hazel.

"Why?" She repeated. A rush of urgency flushed her cheeks.

"I apologized because I was sorry."

"Why should you be?"

"Because you lost a friend, it was obvious that you should blame me. I was the one that gave you the serum, I'm the reason you're still here and that boy isn't. Even though I didn't know what it would do, it's natural you'd blame me."

Cynicism tightened her lips and hardened her eyes. He was implying that he knew how she felt when there was no way he could know the depth of emotional turmoil the Games and the President had plunged her into.

"I don't think you're sorry at all."

Offense read in his eyes, but only a for brief moment.

"You must think I'm some kind of monster."

"Aren't you?"

With a final crescendo the song ended, but they remained in dancing poses. She could feel the apprehension in his fingers as he averted his gaze.

"I guess I must be," he whispered back.

Her brow furrowed at the response. A strange feeling overtook her. It was confusion mixed with puzzling guilt.

"You heard about what happened in District 2?"

"Everyone in the military department heard what happened there."

Her eyes dropped, "Why haven't you mentioned it?"

"I didn't think it was proper."

She was astounded. He was so stoic, so calm. Everything about his posture and appearance read as indifferent except his eyes. In his eyes she could see a glimmer of something, what it was she couldn't say, but the glimmer stared back at her mysteriously.

"He was shot, did you know that?"

Music burst from the orchestra near the windows. Suddenly they began moving again.

"I was aware."

"He didn't need to be shot."

She didn't know why she felt the need to defend her aggressor, perhaps it was her disgust with the Capitol, or maybe simply because she wanted to show up Adric.

"The man attacked you and you're giving him excuses?"

"He was in grief."

Playfulness left his eyes as he stared at her, "He deserved to die."

Pandora's lips parted in disgust, "Why? Because he wasn't worth anything to the Capitol?"

"Because he needed to be punished. He was going to kill you. Excuse me for saying, Miss Sullivan, but I don't think you understand…"

"Understand what?" She growled under her breath, narrowing her eyes, "I don't need to be taken care of, I don't need some self-entitled drone to shoot a man in the head when I get hurt."

Adric peered away. At first he looked shocked but slowly a smirk pulled on his lips. Pandora clenched her jaw, insulted that he was smiling at her anger.

"You put on a good show, don't you?" He suddenly asked through the smirk.

"Excuse me?"

He whirled her around, looking past her shoulder at something near the entrance, "It must be hard to pretend like you have. It must be exhausting."

"I don't need your pity."

"No, I don't think you do. You are—"

"I'm not brave," she quickly interrupted, estimating what was about to come out of his mouth. So many times she had been called brave, she was sick of it.

His eyes glanced down at her face and his brow creased, "I was going to say cunning. Bravery has nothing to do with pretense."

"I suppose you think you're brave because you wear an officer's uniform and medals?"

The smirk quickly turned into a smile. "No," he whispered, "No, I'm not brave. If I was then I would have never given you that serum."

The response took her off guard. Her eyes widened and her fingers tightened.

She had barely heard the song end before their feet stopped.

His dark hazel eyes darted around the banquet hall. It was as if Adric was watching for someone in the shadows. When his hands pulled away from Pandora he finally looked back to her and bowed his head. Something dawdled in his eyes, but he restrained it. Pandora could tell that he was well versed in restraint.

"Thank you for the dance, Miss Sullivan. I hope you have a good trip back to your District."

He was just about to turn away when she grabbed his wrist.

"Wait—"

His eyes twitched to her in surprise. His eyebrow arched.

Suddenly she was at a loss for words, "You heard me scream your name—I was—I screamed your name and you didn't help. Why didn't you help?"

She was referring to the arena, when Marius was going rabid from the gas, when everything was lost. She had called Adric's name but no help came.

His eyes scanned her face and in a matter of fact voice he said: "It was either you or the boy. I picked you."

"I didn't want it."

"I know…but I did."

He dropped his eyes and pulled his hand away.

"Goodbye, Pandora."

She tried to speak but nothing came out. Before she was able to part her lips he had disappeared into the dancing crowd. Urgently she twitched her eyes over the ornate dresses and extravagant decorations.

"Wait…" she whispered, lifting her dress to move, but something stopped her.

Her head jerked to the side, it was Caradoc.

"I'm afraid it's time to leave."

"But—"

"Ah," he raised his finger and shook his head, "Schedule remember."

"I don't care about the schedule."

"I'm shocked, I would have thought you'd want to leave this place as quickly as possible."

Pandora narrowed her eyes, "I need to do something."

"We all have something to do. Smile and wave goodbye. You'll be back soon enough."

A prickle quivered her spine. She allowed Caradoc to pull her through the dance floor. She searched for the eyes she knew were on her. Just before Pandora reached the edge of the corridor she caught sight of him.

The first thing she saw was the rose, so white and clean. Her eyes lifted to his face. A cruel smile formed on his lips as he raised his hand in silent wave.

"Pandora—let's go."

She gasped for air. Her eyes were glued to President Snow. A lifetime wasn't enough time to be away from Snow, let alone a year. He was staring right at her.

The expression was so discernible and incomparable that it made her growl. It was the look a wolf gives to his helpless prey. It was an expression of conquering.


	8. The Gathering Night

**Note: **Sorry about the lack of updates recently. I've been rather busy with the holidays and moving, but now the story will be updated more regularly. Thank you for the feedback and, as usual, enjoy.

* * *

_The Gathering Night_

It was strange to wake up and see the familiar ceiling of her room in District 7. At first Pandora thought she might be dreaming, but the far off noises and voices reminded her that she was back.

Her eyes tiredly peered to the window. Yesterday was the final night she would spend in District 7.

It was the largest feast her home had seen since Johanna Mason won the Hunger Games a couple years ago. There was music and song. Everyone was filled with joy because they knew that one of their own had made it through the arena, but there was no comfort for Pandora. Today was the culmination of her deepest fears. President Snow had lived up to his word, and now she had to live up to hers. Today she would stand on the platform of District 7 one last time, look out towards the knolls and forest and say goodbye. A shiver of guilt and shame swept over her. Suddenly she felt nauseous.

Near the door her dress still hung loosely around the wooden frame.

Her hair wildly fell around her shoulders as she threw the covers away and slipped out of bed. Snow had melted in the weeks that she had been away. Though there were still a few patches here and there, rain now replaced it. It was coming down in sheets, filling the roads with puddles.

Miles had been traveled and pained experiences spent, and yet Pandora still felt like she was stuck in square one, unable to move.

Her fingers grazed the warm banister as she descended the steps and wandered through the hallway into the living room.

"I was coming up to bring you tea."

She peered over her shoulder. August was holding a steaming mug.

"I overslept."

"I think we can forgive you, it was a long night."

"Thank you," she whispered, receiving the tea. Her lips tingled as she sipped at the scolding liquid.

The living room was filled with cases, tools, drawings, and luggage. Her entourage had more than made themselves at home, they had completely taken over.

"I didn't see you that much last night, I was hoping we would talk," August said, brushing away one of Caradoc's sketchbooks to sit.

Pandora's eyes widened. "Talk?"

She was thankful that the news of what happened in District 2 hadn't traveled to her family, thankful because if she had to explain the details of that morning she wouldn't be able to without delving into her own repressions and thoughts. They were ignorant to the true depths of danger Pandora was in, and that was how she wanted to keep it. She had made each one of her entourage swear to silence.

"I missed you."

She rubbed her lips together and nodded, "Yes, it felt like I was gone forever."

"Well, you're back home now."

Although Pandora told her mother and Dash, she hadn't found the courage or time to tell August she was leaving them. There were stories and lies she had thought over for the past year but none of them seemed believable. It was always easier to lie to the others, but not to August. He was too perceptive, too full of questions. Pandora knew that was the reason only August was around today, she knew that the rest of her family couldn't bear to see her leave yet again. Now more then ever she felt like a coward.

"August I have to tell you—"

"There she is!"

Her words stopped and her eyes angrily twitched to the line of people filtering in.

Lucius came first, smiling like a goon. Then Vibia and Caradoc.

August scanned them over in disgust.

"You're not even dressed!"

Pandora felt her chest tighten. Her eyes fearfully looked to August.

"Dressed for what?" He inquired.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about—to the family about—"

"For the trip to the Capitol of course!"

"What?"

"August—I—"

"Oh dear," Vibia whispered with her hand over her mouth, "Lucius I think you let it slip."

"Slip?!"

August tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. It took a moment for him to realize what they were yammering about, but slowly it set in, particularly when he noticed Pandora's face change.

"What?!" This time when he said that single syllable there was no doubt or confusion in his voice, only urgency, only shock.

_Make it believable_, She told herself.

Her fingers hesitantly grazed her lips as if she were thinking. Her eyes lifted to his.

"August, there's so much good I could do from the Capitol."

"You're leaving us?"

"No. Not forever, just for a while," She lied, nervously peering to her stylist team.

"We just got you back!"

She let out the best laugh she could muster and shrugged. It was hard to act casual towards her brother, he knew her so well.

"And you'll have me back again. August—" she tried to ignore everyone else in the room as she took the few confident steps towards him and placed her hands on his shoulders, "This is something I want to do."

"You don't want this…we're a family, we stick together. What about mom?"

"I've already told her and Dash. She's strong she can make it with your help, and Dash—well—he'll be fine. Ophelia is young, she doesn't know the real difference yet. I'll be back before everyone knows it."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I want to. I—I need to, August."

Lucius awkwardly cleared his throat, only adding to the tense atmosphere in the room.

Urgently he grabbed her wrist and leaned closer, "Are they making you do this?"

She blinked her eyes in shock and peered at Caradoc, "No—what?!"

"Pandora, are they?"

She scanned his face and eyes. She was being to passive with him. If firmness was the only way to make him believe her she'd do it, Pandora would do it so that she could ensure her family's safety.

With a furrowed brow she wiggled away from him and shook her head, "I said no, August. How many times do I need to tell you that this is something I want? It has nothing to do with them, or the family. It's something I need to do!"

"I'll never forgive you if you leave."

The words jarred her. Pandora's muscles went rigid, her eyes widened. "August, stop—"

She tried to reach for him but he was moving too fast.

Before she knew it he was just a shadow. When the door slammed she jumped and parted her lips in frustration.

It took her a few brief seconds to remember that Caradoc, Lucius, and Vibia were standing nearby. When she finally did her eyes dropped to the ground. Her hand pressed against her forehead.

"Well—I'm sure everything will be fine," Vibia tried to console.

Pandora lowered herself onto the sofa, leaning her elbows onto her knees, "No it won't."

"Like you said, you'll be back before they know it. He's just in shock."

"Vibia—" Caradoc tried to interrupt.

"And then everything will be as right as rain!"

"Vibia!"

Her blue face turned towards Caradoc in surprise.

"Be quiet."

"I was trying to help—I'm trying to make her realize that she'll be back before she knows it."

Caradoc tightened his lips, "She's not coming back."

It hurt Pandora's heart to hear Caradoc say the words that she had been repeating to herself for a year now. Her hand moved from her forehead to her cheek. Her brown eyes peered towards the fire.

"And she doesn't need to be soothed like a child."

She saw Vibia's shadow nearby, felt it as her makeup artist physically moved away. She didn't need to look up to know the expression that was on Viba's face. She had seen the expression many times before, the look of pity, of confused and uneasy pity.

"The train leaves soon, Pandora. An escort should be arriving to usher you to the Capitol."

"Catia?" She whispered back, staring at her fingernails.

"Catia left this morning."

"Why can't you escort me?"

"Because I'm no escort, I'll be rendered useless for you now, we all will until we're needed."

She lifted her eyes and looked between the faces standing before her. Pandora remembered then how scared she had been when she had first met them. She had been overwhelmed and disoriented from being reaped for the games. Now their faces were so familiar.

"Will I have time to say goodbye—" she briefly turned to the windows, "—to my family?"

"That was what yesterday and this morning were for."

She could feel tears stinging her nose and eyes, but she held it back as the dull light melted through the windows, "Right, of course."

No other words were said. She kept her eyes on the window as she heard the team pack their things away and shuffle in and out of the room. Occasionally she would feel eyes on her but she ignored the prickle at the back of her neck. It wasn't until she heard the front door shut that she looked around. Everything was just as it had been before the Victory Tour. Her mother's living room was barren and neat again. Her eyes shifted to the ticking clock near the fireplace mantle.

"Soon," she whispered to herself, tapping her fingertips against the velvet fabric of the sofa.

She brought her knees to her chest and slouched further into the cushions. There was no sound or music in the house. Silence swallowed her. As time passed the ticking clock became a lullaby, singing her to sleep. Heat from the fire blanketed her. She felt her lips part as her body gave into a quiet slumber.

Hours must have passed. Hours of nightmares.

A crack of thunder was the first thing she heard.

Her eyes opened in bewilderment.

To Pandora's fatigued ears it sounded like a tray of dishes falling to the floor. Her hand instinctively tightened into a fist.

The fire in the hearth had died down, leaving only a few embers and logs glowing. As she lifted her body off the sofa her eyes twitched to the window. The sky was blackened and bruised. Rain was pouring from the clouds. The spring storms were starting.

"Caradoc?" She called in confusion, half-forgetting that her entourage had left.

"Hello?!"

No reply.

She wandered into the entryway and gazed up the staircase. The house was still. Another few footsteps past and she was near the coatrack.

She had just grabbed her coat when she heard a familiar voice. Dash's voice stung her ears.

Pandora narrowed her eyes and pulled the coat on. When she grabbed for the doorknob she winced, it was cold to the touch.

"Dash?!" She called to him, opening the door, "What are you doing out there?! You'll catch a cold in the storm!"

Cold air and rain hit her in the face.

She stepped onto the porch, "Dash!?"

Her boots thumped against the wooden beams but they stopped when her eyes found her brother. He was talking to someone, or rather laughing with him or her.

At first she couldn't tell who the anonymous person was, but as he lifted his umbrella she gasped. Two hazel eyes stared back at her. Just beyond the officer's black cap she could see the wisps of electric blonde hair.

"Pandora!" Dash cheered.

Her face contorted into an expression of repressed anger.

She barely remembered herself as she jumped off the steps and into the rain. Her hair was soaked by the time she got to her brother and Adric, "What are you doing here?"

"Relax, I was just talking to Dash."

It was then that she noticed the cup of hot cider in Dash's hand and the pastry in the other. Adric was shielding him from the rain with his umbrella.

"Don't eat that Dash,"

"Why not?" He asked in confusion.

"I said don't!"

Adric Pedersen widened his eyes.

"Give me that," Pandora continued, snatching the drink and bread away from Dash, "Go inside, please."

"Pandora—" He droned, rolling his eyes, "I'm fine."

"Well you can be fine inside, you'll catch a cold out here."

"August let's me play in the rain."

"I'm not August."

Dash stubbornly peered between Adric and his sister before tightening his scarf and bowing his head to the soldier.

She waited for her brother to be inside before she turned back to Adric, "We don't need your trifles."

Pandora practically threw the food and drink at him.

"That was for him—"

"He doesn't want it."

He peered off into the distance, flipping the collar of his black coat up. It brushed against his cheeks and lips, "I see you're just as sharp as ever."

Raindrops rolled down her face. The snow had melted but there was an icy chill in the air, a chill that matched Pandora's demeanor.

"Why—" she stumbled over her words, an acidic expression swept over her face, "Why are you here?"

Past the curved edges of the dripping umbrella she could see Adric's eyes, "I'm here to escort you to the Capitol, of course."

Silence was the only reply.

Pandora's back straightened and her lips tightened. "Why you?"

"I asked."

Again she adjusted her posture in surprise, Adric Pedersen was unexpectedly blunt and forward. It was unsettling to Pandora. Through her brief travels to the Capitol she had quickly caught onto the fact that their citizens were not only absurd and frivolous but also vapid. With Adric this was not the case at all. He spoke to Pandora in a way that reminded her of honestly wrapped in barbed wire. A whisper of kindness in his eyes would quickly be followed by concise and pointed words.

A whistle bellowed.

Adric's eyes quickly shifted to her face, "That'll be the train."

"I'm not ready—" she peered over her shoulder, towards her house. Dash was sitting at the foggy window. Pandora could see his rosy cheeks and wide eyes through the rain. "I need to say goodbye."

When she turned back to him she expected a stern face and stubborn eyes, but there was only understanding.

He lowered his eyes and nodded, "You have all the time in the world. This train is for you, I suppose it can wait for you as long as you need."

She parted her lips. Her brow furrowed as she tried to hold back the tears that were stinging her nose and throat.

"Thank you," she managed.

Her boots trudged through the muddy ground and traveled up the steps of her porch. At the door she paused. The sigh that left her lips trembled. Behind the door she could hear their voices coming closer and closer. Dash must have told them it was time.

Her fingers quivered as she grabbed the doorknob and twisted.

When the door opened they were all there, standing in a row. Each had a different expression on their face.

"I'll miss—you—" her whole body was shaking, "I'll miss you all."

Hot tears were brimming in her eyes.

She wanted to hug them and ask for forgiveness, tell them the truth…but she couldn't. Her tongue was tied with threats and lies.

"Just come back soon…" Dash whispered.

A sad smile formed on her lips. She lifted her hand and jingled the bracelet.

"I'll be back before you know it."

For a moment she caught August staring at her. A smirk told Pandora that he would eventually forgive her. She wondered how long that forgiveness would last when he realized she was never returning.

She took a few steps back, grimacing at the cool breeze that was blowing in through the open door.

"I love you—all of you."

Her mother walked forward. Pandora tried to calm down as she felt her mother's hands hold hers. She led her to the porch as if she were a little girl again. Softly, her hand pressed against Pandora's cheek.

"I'm proud of you."

A tear rolled down her cheek. She stared at her mother, trying to remember the color of her eyes, the wrinkles in her face. It was a face that she had grown up with, a face that had molded not only Pandora, but also her entire family. Her eyes moved to her brothers, then her baby sister.

"Goodbye," she breathlessly whispered, biting her lip as she pulled away and descended the steps.

The wind blew. She could hear the mud squishing under her boots, feel her body sinking into the ground with every step taken. Their eyes remained on her until she was past the fence of the Victor's Village. Of course they weren't going to travel to the station with her, it would only make it harder.

Pandora wanted to look back, to catch one more glimpse of their faces, but she couldn't bring herself to.

Her hands were still shaking in the car. Her brown eyes tried to take in every nook of District 7, every building. Adric was the only other person in the car, apart from the driver.

The shops and people they were passing by were the basis of Pandora's life until the Hunger Games. These were the things she had relied on. She was watching her childhood pass through a bit of glass now.

"We used to play just over there," Pandora suddenly spoke, pressing her fingers against the window and rubbing her trembling lips together, "We would race each other."

He looked at her in astonishment and followed her gaze to a tiny square the car was passing by. Mossy roofs loomed over palettes of lumber, freshly sawed.

"We used to laugh and pretend, pretending and playing," She whispered, "But we stopped when—" something caught in her throat, "—all of this happened."

"Why did you stop?" He courageously asked, expecting a hateful glare.

Instead she kept her eyes on the window and slowly shook her head, "I was reaped, I killed people—and—and I guess I grew up. Though I pretend still, always pretending."

He stared at her with awe. Before he could talk himself out of it he reached for her, placing his hand on her knee.

A heartbeat passed.

Her eyes slowly peered at him.

"You aren't done…not just yet, Pandora Sullivan."

It wasn't a threat, or a snide remark. His eyes were so soft, his tone generous.

"You don't know me," She gently whispered back, "How can you say that?"

He retracted his hand and looked away, "I know you more than you think. That's why you should trust me when I say—"

"Say what?"

"You can bend but you'll never break."

She abruptly looked away and crossed her legs. Her lips rubbed together as tried to shake a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach.

With a jolt the car stopped.

Adric reached for the handle but Pandora's words stopped him, "Wait."

He glanced to her and arched his eyebrow.

"Why are you here?"

"To escort you to the Capitol, I thought that was clear."

She shook her head, "I know, but _why_?"

His eyes lowered, "I have a lot to apologize to you for, it seems. You think I'm a monster—I'm here to prove you wrong, Pandora."

She stared at him in speechless disbelief.

He pushed the car door ajar and jumped outside. He moved around the car so fast that when he opened his umbrella and her door she widened her eyes.

A glimmer of a smile pulled his lips up as he shivered and peered inside.

"And I warn you," he added, "I'm not easy to shake."

She fastened the top button of her coat and climbed out of the car, glancing at the umbrella and the train with a sigh. Her lips remained straight, her face hardened.

"Of that," she quietly responded, "I'm sure."


	9. Glass Coffin

_Glass Coffin _

Familiar flashes of light splayed through the windows of the train. The wheels churned against their metal path. The silver bullet was gliding on the rails as if it were floating. At first a mere glimpse, the city lights quickly grew, only a few moments passed before the elaborate towers of glass, marble and steel were looming over them.

Every person on the train turned their attention to the platform as they rolled in place. Pandora grappled for coat, clumsily adjusting the wrinkles that had formed in it. Adric was close by, though it became clear that she was the one following him and not the other way around. At the open train door her feet abruptly stopped.

Spring had not yet thawed the winter air, its icy tenor still hung close to the skin and lungs. Her brown eyes hesitantly peered around. Apart from the wind, the far off echoes, and the gushing of steam from the train, there were no other sounds.

Pandora was taken aback. At the very least she expected to be fully exploited upon her return to the Capitol, but there they were…completely alone.

Perceiving her uncertainty almost immediately, Adric studied her face and arched his eyebrows, "They don't even know you're here."

"What?"

"You were expecting applause—a crowd, maybe? They don't know."

Relief swept over her. Again, she looked around. So this was what the Capitol unfueled by the Hunger Games looked like. It was still intimidating, still breathtakingly, mechanically artistic.

Frost-laced wind cut through her coat and pants. Her dark hair wildly flew around her face and shoulders. Slowly, her eyes moved upward, ogling the monuments of technology and vanity. It was a sight she could really never wrap her head around, a sight that left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Adric led her to a car waiting at the back of the station. Before climbing inside Pandora peered down the streets. People were going about their business, waltzing along the ornate paths lined by decadent streetlights.

"They have no idea I'm here?" She repeated his words in doubt.

"No, although I'm sure word will spread."

The cynicism of fame flushed her cheeks. Her fingers rigidly clawed at the side of the car as she maneuvered her way onto the leather seats.

Inside, she shivered.

Pandora's gaze rose to the dazzling city lights, to the screens with moving advertisements. Screens that were almost as big as the buildings they were anchored on. There were advertisements with familiar faces, but the most identifiable was Caesar Flickerman in an ad for cosmetic teeth enhancements. Her eyes widened at his pearly whites before she slouched into the shadows and began twirling a bit of thread nervously in her fingers.

They were driving down roads she hadn't seen. Pandora had only been in Capitol twice before. The first was for the Games, where she was shoved into the Hunger Games Municipal Tower. The second was for the Victory Tour, only taking place in the City Circle. The roads they traveled on were just as awe striking as those that she had previously seen, but in a different way. These buildings seemed to be made purely of neon and steel.

She pressed her hand against the glass. Her breath fogged the window. The neon lights were mesmerizing.

"You look amazed," Adric suddenly said.

She peered to her side. He was watching her.

Self-consciously she leaned back, returning to her thread twirling, "I've never seen anything like this."

"I can imagine—we call it Energy Corridor. Many of the young people of the Capitol come her for drinks or music, to fool around I guess."

She twitched her eyes back to the streets outside, noticing the large amount of youthful women and men along the way. Some looked her age, others a few years older, but they were all young. Extravagant hairdos and edgy decoration stared back at her.

"You come here often?"

"No—" he seemed to laugh a little under his breath, "No, I don't have much time for fooling around. My father—well—he wouldn't like that very much."

"You do everything you're father wants?" She arched her eyebrow inquisitively and watched.

He wasn't looking at her but in the darkness of the car she could see a smirk form on his lips, "Life for most of the Capitol might be relatively easy. For some of us—more—"

"Elite?" her tone was judging.

He shifted his eyes away, "We have certain duties to uphold for our families."

Pandora's brow creased in thought. The memory of Adric's interaction with Artorius Flemming broke through the fatigue and confusion. Artorius and Adric had spoken to each other as if they were close, something she hadn't thought of much until now. After all, to Pandora Sullivan one Capitol scum was like the rest. The idea that there was social stratification within the cesspool of the Capitol was a new discovery, one that for one reason or another intrigued her.

"You know Artorius Flemming well?"

Adric was surprised at how much interest Pandora was suddenly taking in Capitol affairs and current events.

"Uh—yes—my father and him are friends. I grew up with Artorius's son."

"Must have been a wonderful childhood."

"The sarcasm is noted, Miss Sullivan."

"And here I was thinking that you weren't catching on…"

Again, her eyes moved towards the windows. The scenery had changed. This time, miraculous buildings of glass and iron curled, shot, and sprang into the starry sky.

"I suppose you call this place the Glass Cupboard, then?" She slyly remarked, corner-eyeing Adric.

He couldn't restrain the laugh that past his lips.

Pandora wasn't fond of Adric Pedersen, but at least he was quick with a joke or clever remark.

Her lips parted. She was just about to speak when the car suddenly came to halt. Her eyes shifted around nervously. Her head jerked from left to right. She was on the defense again, her muscles flexed.

"Here we are!" the driver called from the front, dusting off his steering wheel before he nodded to the building across the way.

Without speaking Adric pulled his officer's cap on and left the car, it took him brief seconds to open her door and beckon.

She hesitated, cowering into herself.

He furrowed his brow perplexedly, gesturing to her once again. "C'mon we don't have all night now."

Her eyes narrowed. She pursed her lips as she stumbled onto the obsidian street, ignoring the hand he had offered.

Pandora noticed that her actions had caused another smile to form on Adric's lips. It wasn't an obvious one, it was a smile that was discreet and tamed.

"Follow me," he whispered, flipping his coat collar up before dashing past oncoming traffic. She winced at the sight of it.

Cars were zooming by so fast and close that she could barely wrap her mind around the way Adric wove his way through them.

He turned around halfway across the street and shrugged.

"What are you doing?!"

Silently she shook her head, stepping back as another set of cars sped by.

"C'mon!"

Her eyes widened. She wasn't about to dart into a death trap, at least not another one.

Adric stood there for a second, scowling. He glared at her before making his way back. The pause his steps took was brief before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the hive of vehicles. She yelped and recoiled, not blinking for a second as she felt Adric yanking her across the street.

When they reached the other side, she finally breathed and pushed him away, "What was that?"

"You wouldn't move."

"I don't need you to lead me!" she hissed, peering back at the cars.

"You wouldn't move," he repeated it more sternly this time and widened his eyes, "Now, let's go."

She had to force herself to follow him. Her face sourly contorted and her eyes narrowed. She glared at him long and hard before moving.

They were walking towards a towering building made from glass. Rotating doors churned like a spinning top. From the outside looking in, she could see warm lights glowing.

They passed through the doors quickly and entered into a huge foyer of more glass with trimmings of a dark stone Pandora had never seen before.

"Why—Mr.—Mr. Pedersen!"

Her eyes twitched to a man behind a crystal desk. He was wearing a strange outfit and had a green beard.

"Hello there, Yuri."

Adric took off his cap to be polite.

"To what do I owe the—" Suddenly the man caught sight of Pandora, "Pandora Sullivan!"

She stumbled back as he advanced. Instinctively Adric took a step between them and smiled, "She's tired, Yuri, no time for pleasantries I'm afraid. I was hoping I could have the keys to Penthouse 4."

Yuri stared in amazement at her for a moment. He looked like he wanted pounce on her. It frightened Pandora.

"Yuri—" Adric said again, waiting for the man to look at him before continuing, "Keys, now."

"Of—of course."

He moved like a jumpy raccoon. In a spastic flash he scrambled behind the desk and snatched a gold key that was hanging on the wall.

The glossy look in his eyes grew as he came back out. Instead of handing it to Adric he tried to get past to Pandora. He only made it a few steps before Adric moved in the way again.

Yuri looked up and sheepishly smiled. "Here—Here you go."

Adric stared at him briefly before taking the key, "Thank you, Yuri."

Pandora watchfully looked between Adric and the man. She could tell that the man, named Yuri, had a level of respect for Adric. Respect that she wasn't used to seeing a middle age man give a 19-year-old boy.

"Of course, Mr. Pedersen."

"Please—call me Adric."

This seemed to excite the man, "Alright. Of course, Adric."

She heard Adric's military boots thump against the floor before she realize he was to her side.

"Come along," he whispered to her as he twirled the key in between his fingers and nodded towards the elevators.

Occasionally she would peer around to the man at the desk, each time she saw Yuri eagerly staring back.

It wasn't until they were inside the glass lift that Adric spoke again, "You have a lot of fans. You should be proud."

Her eyes moved swiftly away from him. Her arms crossed in annoyance. She ignored his pointed remark, instead focusing her attention on the obvious question at hand.

"Where are we?" She asked.

The elevator chimed before he could speak. Silently, Adric motioned for her to walk first.

She eyed him, suspiciously. He could see Pandora's body physically hesitate before she forced herself to walk.

As they marched through the corridor it was hard to tell what was a window and what was a wall. Everything was glass or a mirror. In a strange way it made Pandora feel on the brink of insanity. Glimpses of her own reflections and shadows could be seen as traveled along the crystal floor.

The only door along the hall was a single black one, with the gold number 4 dramatically decorating the center.

She could feel her heart quicken. Every hair on the back of her neck was standing up. Pandora was sure that Adric Pedersen was leading her to some obscure torture room, or even worse…to President Snow. But with one glimpse of his face she knew it couldn't be all that bad. Although he wasn't exactly smiling, he appeared unstrained and calm. Her jaw clenched at the memory of what Adric had said to her before the train. He had told her he was going to prove her wrong, prove that he wasn't the monster she thought he was.

It was strange, she thought to herself. Adric Pedersen was undoubtedly a part of the equation, part of the Capitol, but there was an absence of malice and hatred inside him. He walked a fine line between darkness and wide-eyed innocence, something Pandora never realized existed until she had met him.

Feeling her eyes, Adric fleetingly peered to her.

Clumsily, she looked away.

This made a glimmer of a smile flash in his eyes.

"Where are we going?" her voice faltered.

He revealed the key from his pocket and delicately let it slip into the lock. His eyebrows arched as he stared at her, "Penthouse 4, of course."

Pandora stared at the gold number 4 in confusion.

Her ears perked up to the sound of the lock clicking. Suddenly a white panel to the side of the door lit up.

"_Identification necessary_," a robotic female voice stated from some anonymous source.

"I'll need your hand."

"My what?!"

Adric smiled slightly and grabbed her wrist. She was so baffled that she didn't fight back when he pulled her closer to the panel and pressed her hand against the rectangle.

She gasped in shock as something beyond the panel scanned up and down several times. She saw serial numbers flash across the screen and had to look twice when a thumbnail picture came up in the upper left hand portion of the panel that looked like her.

One beep sounded.

Then an echo of metal clanking peeled.

"_Welcome home, Pandora Sullivan_."

Her eyes shifted to the door just as it opened.

"Home?" she whispered, furrowing her brow.

Her feet were anchored to the floor. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Whatever was beyond the doorway was cloaked in darkness.

Pandora took in a deep breath as she stepped forward. She was just inside when lights started to automatically turn on.

The sight before her was something that she was not expecting.

It was a loft, very large and very ornate. No longer were the floors glass, but wood and marble. As she continued on, she passed through a kitchen, then a dining area with an opulent glass table, further through a living area, until she finally reached the last rooms: a bedroom with a connecting bathroom. The west side of the loft was made of pure glass that allowed any viewer to see outside onto the urban sprawl of the Capitol.

"I—I don't understand," She said after a time, looking over to Adric in a daze.

He was standing in the living area, glancing through the windows, "What?"

"Home?" She asked once more.

He looked to Pandora. On Adric's face was an expression of halfhearted peace and exhaust. "This is your new home, Pandora."

She stared at him silently, unsure if she was dreaming or not. Her eyes lowered to the wood floor as she stepped forward, "The floor is wood."

"An astute observation."

She only lifted her eyes for a moment to glare at him before looking away, "Isn't it a primitive material for a Capitol architect to pick?"

"The President thought you'd enjoy it…it's from the woods of District 7, to remind you of home."

Her lips parted in disgust, "The President?"

Adric was studying her reaction, noticing the flinches in her face and change in her posture, "Yes—he—well he helped design the penthouse for you. He said he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible."

When she looked about the room now she was looking for any signs of Snow, any cameras. Her brown eyes peered around every shadow, every nook. Suddenly details she had never noticed shouted at her. As Adric had said the wood floors were from District 7, and created in the District 7 carpentry fashion. Wooden trinkets and carvings were dotted around certain shelves and bookcases, some were more abstract but others were identifiable.

"Tomorrow he's asked to meet with you."

This single sentence sent waves of sickness through her. She shook her head, ignoring the statement. Her eyes were still scanning the loft, looking for details.

Near the edge of the one of the end tables she caught sight of a photograph of Caesar and her from a year ago, during the closing interviews. Her fingers shook as she grabbed for it.

She grimaced.

"You don't like it?"

Sadness filled her eyes. She backed away in solemn anger. Pandora was about to let it go, to scream. She hated Snow, more than anyone on earth. He was rubbing her face in it. He was poking fun at the fact that she would never again see her home District. Snow had created a glass tower to keep her locked in.

Her lips harshly tightened as she lifted her eyes to Adric. From the expression on his face she could tell that he was ignorant to everything, although how much…Pandora couldn't be sure.

"It's—" she took a deep breath, "It's fine. I'm just overwhelmed."

"I see…"

Her eyes lowered to the framed photograph in her hands. She brushed over her image with the tip of her figure. She was wearing the dress that looked like a million diamonds, she was smiling so brightly.

Pandora could feel the blood drain out of her face. It was then that she realized—no matter what choices she would have made, no matter what roads she could have taken, they would all lead her here. Escapism was obsolete. Her lot had been thrown in before she was even born.

"Fate…" she whispered the single word.

"What was that?"

She blinked her eyes to him, she was trying to hold back the tears but they were so obviously brimming that she didn't see the point.

"Do you believe in fate?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

Suddenly she felt suffocated. Her head tilted to the ceiling, her mouth parted with a gasp.

"It doesn't matter."

When she dropped her eyes to the picture again she shook her head with sadness. The smiling girl staring back at her was a stranger. In her heart she knew that change wasn't coming, it was already here.

Shaking breaths simmered past her teeth, she whispered it so quietly, so solemnly: "…nothing matters anymore."


	10. Razor Trees Break The Fall

_Razor Trees Break The Fall _

Nightmares tormented her that night.

She tossed and turned, half-waking to expect the wooden beams of her house in District 7, only to be taunted when a pristine ceiling of white stared back. A cool sweat covered her brow. From time to time she would see faces of her loved ones in the nightmares, but more often than not she was lost in the dark. No matter how loud she screamed for help, she was alone. In those dark recesses of her mind, words and face muddled into strange monstrosities, shadowy reflections of herself.

"Help!" She murmured, struggling with the satin sheets.

But no help came.

At daybreak she finally woke with a startle, as if something pulled her back from the terror she gasped.

The sun was just over the horizon. Daybreak burned her eyes.

Dawn was always different in the Capitol. It was more surreal, like some poignant magic.

As she curled on the floor near the window and gaze at the cityscape she wondered how long it would take to get used to this sunrise. Her eyes glanced over the overflowing golds and pinks.

If not a lifetime, she thought, then an eternity.

Everything in the loft was foreign to her. Constantly she had to remind herself that this was her new home. Never mind getting used the place, the real struggle was knowing where things were.

Pandora had barely found a drinking glass before a robotic crackle sounded from the foyer of her loft.

Her mouth moved away from the glass. Her eyes widened.

"_Miss Sullivan?"_

She wandered into the marble entrance, narrowing her eyes at a screen near the door. The closer she approached, the clearer the figure in the monitor became. It was Yuri, the man from the crystal desk downstairs.

"Miss Sullivan, are you there?"

The touch screen gave her some trouble, but after a few long seconds she figured it out, "Y—Yes. Hello?"

"Good morning, Miss Sullivan!"

He looked and sounded far too excited.

"Yes, thank you…um…what is it?"

"Oh, yes! Well there's a car waiting down here for you."

"A car?" She whispered into the microphone.

In the screen she could see Yuri peering towards the windows and nodding, "Well, yes. A very nice car, in fact. The driver's saying you have an appointment."

She drew back in astonishment.

Her finger hesitated before she pressed the screen once more, "Appointment?"

"I don't know the details, Miss Sullivan, but yes."

"Al—Alright. I'll be down."

Doubtfully she backed away from the screen, watching it go black before she quickened her pace through the loft, into her bedroom. She twitched her eyes around, peering down at what she was wearing with anxiety for a moment.

"There must be a closet somewhere…" she whispered, searching around the room only to find walls and the entry to the bathroom.

Her brow furrowed uneasily. She gnawed on her nails.

Pandora was just coming back through the hall to the bath when she saw it. Two thinly long doors protrude from a patch of wall, they resembled the doors of a wardrobe. She grasped the handles and pulled.

Instantly her feet stumbled back in shock.

Pandora was expecting to see a small cupboard with a few dresses and outfits but before her was a cavernous gallery of fabrics, shoes and jewelry.

Her fingers grazed over several outfits before she pulled something on and made for the door. Luckily she was watching where she was going the night before or Pandora would have been completely lost in the glass maze.

The lift descended the floors so quickly that she had to hold onto the side rail.

"Where's the car?" She asked shyly, brushing strands of hair behind her ears as she approached the front desk.

Yuri was waiting, wearing the same outfit and clownish grin from the night before.

"Just outside," he eagerly answered.

She tried to smile back but it was hard.

"May I say!"

Her steps paused, she peered to him.

"It is an honor to have the newest Victor living in our building."

"Of course—thank you."

Just as Yuri said, a car was waiting for her at the curb.

She had barely gotten into the vehicle before it started moving. Apparently whatever appointment she had was urgent.

"Sir?" She inquired, leaning forward as she spoke.

The driver glanced at her with bewilderment. He wasn't used to being called sir.

"Where are we going? What I mean is—My appointment, who is it with?"

"Why, the President, of course."

She felt ice fill her veins.

"Of course," she repeated uncertainly.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Her lips were dry. Her heart was beating so fast and hard against her ribcage that she thought it might explode.

When the car finally did stop she wanted to dig her fingers into the seats, to never leave, but that wasn't an option.

Bile rose in her throat as Pandora ascended the largest set of marble steps she had ever seen. The building resting at the top was colossal. By her estimate it was more than fifteen floors and growing. Along the middle was a red silk banner that elegantly billowed in the wind. Threaded on its face, in gold, was the emblem of Panem.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing through the doors.

A mess of people were swarming.

While some were greeting her by name, others simply nodded.

She felt lost and confused.

Her eyes stressfully glanced around. She had no idea where she was going or why she was here, all she knew was that in a few short minutes she would have to speak to President Snow. Pandora would once again stare into the snake eyes of the man she loathed most, the man she shook hands with a year ago to save herself and her family.

"Miss Sullivan?"

She whipped around in surprise.

Standing in front of Pandora was a woman with long blonde hair, wearing a gilded dress. The woman looked rather young, with tattoos of gold decorating her body.

"Yes?" Pandora replied.

"Hello, I'm Elia, I'm with the President. If you'd follow me, please."

They walked past the main desk, past the normal elevators. Several doors were opened and closed before Pandora and the woman were completely alone.

"Did you enjoy your first night in your home?"

"It was…new."

"I can imagine," they had reached an elevator, Elia pressed the button before continuing, "I'm sure you'll feel at home in no time."

Pandora clenched her jaw, "Yes. I'm sure."

The doors glided together.

They were in the lift for what felt like a split second before it stopped.

"Here we are," Elia sang, smiling as the doors opened onto a small enclave. "Titus—hello—" She greeted the man at the bureau before pulling Pandora, by the arm.

"Just wait right here, please," she sweetly ordered.

Pandora watched Elia snatch the phone from Titus and press a single number. She gave Pandora a charming wink and laugh as she waited for the ringtone.

"Hello, sir—yes—yes, sir, I have her right here—okay, yes—Alright."

Her gold nails drummed on the desk.

"He's ready for you."

Another ball formed in Pandora's throat.

"Just past those doors, right here."

Her eyes moved to where Elia was pointing. Sleek white doors waited.

"Those doors?" Pandora asked.

The woman stared at her in annoyance, "Yes, dear. _Those doors_."

All Pandora's instincts were telling her to run. She was fast, maybe she could get away before she was caught. Her teeth racked her bottom lip. She was glaring at the doors now, hating how white and sharp they appeared.

The first step she took was the hardest, the others came more naturally.

She had just reached the doors when they abruptly slid open.

In surprise she jumped back, instantly hearing Titus and Elia chuckle underneath their breaths.

One more step.

Then two.

She felt her whole body shake upon entering the dimness of the room, sensing the doors behind her close with a swoosh.

Her eyes hesitantly rose to a narrow path.

She was in a hall, but it felt more like a tunnel. Faint light illuminated rich crimson wallpaper and sleek black floors.

In front of her light split in thin rays. Her eyes squinted. Her feet kept a timid pace.

With every move she made the light grew bright, but it wasn't until she reached the end of the corridor that she stopped.

It had more of the appearance of a library than an office. What must have been thousands of books filled shelves and cabinets.

Her eyes kept moving, moving slowly, observantly.

There was a desk with a small clock, the pendulum ticked and tocked. Windows lined one wall, the Capitol looked like a scenic painting beyond their glass panes. The floor was still black, but lavish carpets disguised most of it. To the far right of her vision she could see a fireplace, and something else…a shadow.

"You're late."

The voice was clear, a raspy voice with a smooth finish. It didn't startle her as she thought it would.

"I wasn't aware we had an appointment."

Her eyes glimmered with disdain, her body tensed.

He was standing near the fire, probing at the logs with an iron poker. A second passed before he turned his snake eyes toward her and cleared his throat.

"Now, let me look at you," the words seemed to drip from his teeth like venom.

Before she could take a step back he had his hands on her shoulders. His eyes scanned her face like a painter does his art.

"Just as beautiful as I remember…" he whispered, grinning broadly, "Has it really been a year, my dear Miss Sullivan?"

She wanted to squirm away but couldn't find the nerve.

"And it barely feels like yesterday, doesn't it?"

She swallowed the dryness in her throat, it felt like shards of glass. "Yes, it does."

His hands carefully dropped. A whiff of the sickly sweet scent that seemed to linger on every hair of his body suffocated her when he turned back to the fire. She grimaced in nausea.

"Please—" he tapped the top of one of the seats, "Sit."

Inside Pandora felt distress. Though her face remained cold, her brain felt like it was hemorrhaging. Soon was here. For a year she had thought of this exact moment, she had thought of what she was going to say. And now—sitting in the lion's den, she was speechless and cowardly.

"Tell me, dear, how was the train ride?"

Her eyes solemnly lifted just as she had taken a seat, "Fine."

"Well, I hope you were treated well…only the best for our Pandora Sullivan."

It felt condescending, she quickly looked towards the fire, unsure of how to respond.

"I was informed of the attack in District 2."

Her back straightened.

"I'm glad to see you're still in one piece. It's a pity when a citizen of Panem makes such a terrible mistake."

"You saw me when I was here for the Victory Tour."

"Did I? I can't recall."

Her eyes narrowed, he was playing games.

"Why am I here?"

He took a sip of his coffee and stared, "Cutting right to the chase then? No more pleasantries?"

"Excuse me for saying, sir, but there's nothing pleasant about talking to you."

Snow lowered his coffee cup slightly, to Pandora's surprise he was smiling still, "There's the bite. And what a bite it is—Oh! Oh, of course I saw you at the Victory Ball. Yes, you were dancing with the young Pedersen, Adric is his name, isn't it?"

Her fingers clawed the fabric of the chair. His words were like needles.

"_Why am I here_?"

He sighed deeply, leaning forward to pluck two sugar cubes from a refined plate. His fingers slyly stirred the hot liquid after he dropped them in, "You seem so intent on getting out of here, you should get used it—after all you will be here for a while."

Her teeth grinded together. Snow wasn't talking about their appointment at all. He was talking about something much bigger. Pandora's life was in his hands and he was squeezing it like a ripe fruit.

"Isn't it obvious?" He finally added, "You're here to discuss your future with Panem."

"Future?"

"But of course," a scathing laugh murmured from him, "The plans we have for you."

"We?"

"Caradoc informed you that you weren't awarded a talent yet?"

She shifted in her seat. Her eyes widely stared at Snow with sudden panic, "I didn't realize it was an award."

"For you—it always is, my dear."

Her finger spread across her lap, she was trying to restrain the urge to bash his face in.

"So?" Her eyebrow arched.

"At first Caradoc wanted to go for singing, I wasn't too fond of that…I mean after all, what a common vocation to get into. No I said, she's far too unique for that I said."

"How kind."

The sarcasm spurred a glimpse of a grin to form on his swollen lips, "Then I got to thinking, what is it Panem needs now more then ever?"

He paused dramatically, slanting forward as if he were divulging the biggest secret to her. "A model," he whispered.

Her brow creased.

"Such a face would have gone to waste in District 7 but not here. No."

"I hardly think I'm qualified—"

"Well that's just it, isn't it? You are, you've already been a spokes person once, and you can again—this time without the obvious pressures."

"And how exactly is a model important for Panem?"

"To have a young lady from one of the outlying Districts, a Victor of our Hunger Games, eternalized through photographs and film, through speeches and press junkets, it will lessen the growing political tension."

Her breathing shortened.

"All throughout the Capitol they will see the girl from District 7 who supports and welcomes the Games, welcomes the Capitol and all of its affairs."

"No."

"No?"

"I—I can't—I can't do that. I have to mentor, the next Games are in a month."

Snow drummed his fingers on his coffee cup, the steam rose in thin waves. "You will have no part in mentoring the Games, Miss Sullivan. Considered yourself evolved."

"What?"

"I believe another Victor will be coming in—I'm not so good with names you understand—Joan—Joanne—"

"Johanna Mason."

"Ah! Yes," For a brief second a flash of contempt read in his eyes, "That's the one."

"She's a recluse, she'll decline."

"I have my ways, we all have our ways."

Pandora parted her lips, unable to hide the growing concern, "Yes, I'm sure you do."

He swirled the metal spoon in his coffee cup, it scrapped against the china, piercing Pandora's ears.

She glanced between the cup and Snow's face, without realizing it she nervously started tapping her foot on the ground.

"Is that it?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we done, then?" it came out more as a shout than a question. Now her fingers began to drum.

He lowered his cup to the table, adjusting the rose on his lapel. President Snow did this often, it was a subconscious tick Pandora had picked up on when she had first met him.

"Not quite…" his hands moved to a white folder that had been strategically laid out. Pandora could hear the file crinkle as he pushed it towards her, "I'd like you to look at that for me."

Cautiously she glanced between the folder and Snow.

He nodded after a frozen moment, beckoning her to obey.

Without looking away from him she leaned forward and snatched it. The paper was thick and heavy, it made a dull scrapping sound as she gently opened it.

There were a few seconds of ignorance before she realized what she was staring at. When recognition set in, she let the contents drop from her hands in shock.

"What?—How did you get these?"

Her eyes twitched nervously from Snow's face to the scattered photographs. They were images from her time in District 4 during the Victory Tour. They were pictures of Finnick Odair and her on the beach.

"Miss Sullivan, you look pale as a ghost."

Suddenly she was on her feet, "What is this?"

"Photographs."

"What are you doing? Why are you showing me these?!"

"Sit down."

"No!"

"When I tell you to sit you sit!" The command was so guttural and severe that she collapsed back into the chair without another word.

Her eyes unblinking gazed at the various snapshots.

"You didn't think I'd just let you wander around Panem without surveillance, did you?"

She had to steady herself. Her shaking hand moved to her face, "I thought that's what Caradoc was for."

"How sharp of you, Pandora, and here I thought you weren't catching on."

"It was a little hard not to."

"You didn't feel close to him? After all he was your stylist."

"I don't feel close to any Capitol pestilence," she growled with fury.

"Well, well—look at you, all heated. All this over some boy, but then of course he's not just some boy, is he? You know that. He's more like a Hunger Games legend, very popular with the ladies as well. Must be those big green soulful eyes of his."

"I have no interest in Finnick Odair."

"Don't misunderstand me, Pandora, I take no offense to a friendship between two champions. Actually, I quite enjoy it."

Her hands clasped the armrests, she lowered her chin and narrowed her eyes, "Maybe you shouldn't. For all you know we were planning an uprising in those pictures."

When he shifted towards her she felt every cell in her body tremble with fear.

He ever so gently placed his hand on her knee, keeping his eyes on hers, "You would never do that."

"How do you know? Maybe I'm my father's daughter."

His grip on her knee tightened, "Because you're a smart girl, you have the foresight to understand the consequences of such a heinous crime. You see, Pandora, all these revolutionaries, they're just lost souls—they blame the government for their own misfortunes and they would sacrifice their family just to kill a few soldiers and politicians, who have families of their own. But not you, no—because you're smart."

She felt her cheeks flush in anger, she want to shove his hand away but she was frozen. He didn't let go of her knee until a second had passed, even then she felt his grip still on her.

"One day you'll see things my way."

Her eyes were filled with rage and equal horror.

"I'm a patient man," He continued, "I can wait for that day to come…my candidate."

Her lips parted.

"Don't look so shocked, you and I both know that's where your real worth lies."

"And what exactly does that worth entail? What does candidate mean?"

The pendulum swayed back and forth.

"Time will reveal all things, I'm sure of that. Biscuit?"

She fluttered her eyes, silently shaking her head. He was so cavalier. She felt faint and sick. If this had been anyone else she would have taken his life right there, or at least tried to. All the nightmares she had been tortured with, all the loss was caused by the man in front of her, the man that had been appointed as leader of Panem. _Panem_, she clenched her jaw, the name left a bitter taste at the tip of her tongue.

"He's in town you know."

"What—" she was still lost, "Who?"

Snow returned to his coffee, smiling quietly as he sipped on it, "Finnick Odair, of course. Just arrived this morning. I assume you want to see him."

Her eyes twitched around the office, although she tried to speak nothing came out. Her head was filled with haze and confusion.

"As it happens he's here for a fragrance campaign Caradoc and several other Capitol designers have put together. Something to inspire the masses, to ring in the coming Games, as you said they are only a month away."

"As it happens?"

He smiled, "A mere coincidence. Of course you're part of the new campaign too."

She hatefully glared at him. "Of course," she quipped.

"I've already told Elia to inform your driver where to take you."

"And if I refuse?"

A laugh so sweet and sharp bellowed from him, "Pandora, I'm no tyrant. Do as you wish, but you should be careful. You know better than anyone how it is out there, in the wrong hands the Capitol can eat you alive."

Her hands were trembling. She was truly horrified.

"Do you remember that last night you were in the arena, it was just after you had lost that boy, that friend of yours…"

Her nostrils were flaring, suddenly the sting of tears was singing her nose.

"Marius, was it? Yes, I remember how scared you were. I thought, what a waste of serum…she won't make it past the finale, but then came the fight...that fight between you and the Tribute from District 1 will gone down in history. I have to admit I was—" an evil smile appeared on his face, "I was proud."

Her breaths were shallow, her eyes watery.

"A part of you wants to be wild, free, but you're young, Pandora. You don't understand…Freedom comes at a cost."

She had to look away, afraid that if she stared any longer at Snow she would turn into stone.

"I didn't realize you were such a dedicated fan, watching my every move," she finally quipped, "If I had I would have given you my autograph," a single tear fell down her cheek. With courage and a blaze in her eyes she, once more, looked at Snow.

He had his fingers clasped together in his lap. His eyes faintly sparkled.

"I often wonder what happens to little girls who lose their fathers so young, don't you?"

Her heart violently pumped hatred throughout her body.

"It must be so hard—so terribly hard."

She narrowed her eyes. It was overflowing now, the despise Pandora was feeling flew past her lips before she could stop herself: "I hate you."

She could hear herself breathing, feel the rage coursing through her body.

Instead of responding immediately, Snow simply stared.

After some time he shrewdly rested to the side of the chair with a sigh. The fire's light menacingly cascaded across his face. She could see his smile pulling at his swollen lips.

"What a bite," he laughed in cruel amusement like the devil, "What a bite, indeed."


	11. By Land or Sea

_By Land or Sea_

"Faster, dear."

She felt hands pulling on her hair, coat and arms. Pandora's first instinct was to thrash at them, to swat them away like flies…instead she winced. Her thoughts were still back in President Snow's office.

"You do realize you're late, don't you?"

Pandora was staring at the back of Caradoc's head. His mohawk was just a silhouette in the dim light of the corridor. Several of the beauticians were examining and undressing her as she walked close behind.

"I had an appointment, up until an hour ago I wasn't even aware that I was needed."

They had just reached a door when it automatically slid open.

Her feet paused. She could see lights flashing from the doorway. Slowly her eyes became as wide as saucers. Lights were set up, all of them streaming different filters and colors onto a small stage. There were cameras and teleprompters waiting nearby.

Technicians worked on long strands of wires while several other works consulted with the photographers. She could hear the buzz of light bulbs warming up.

Observantly Pandora glanced around the room. She was searching for him, he had to be close.

"Come along, no time to waste…" Caradoc crooned impatiently, grabbing her by the wrist.

He pulled Pandora into separate room full of red velvet seats and long bright mirrors. Shelves held various palettes, tools, and devices. Along the far eastern wall, near the door, was a rack of clothing. It was the dressing room.

By the time she was pushed into a seat, the beauticians had her down to her underwear. A chill shivered throughout her body.

Makeup artists and hairdressers were bantering between each other, staring at sketches along the walls. As Caradoc came back into view she noticed that a few of the stylists were looking at her.

"An appointment with who?"

Pandora blinked her eyes, she was overwhelmed and foggy. "What?"

"You said you had an appointment?"

Her lips hesitated, she didn't even want to say the name.

"Hm?"

"Snow—President Snow."

"Right, of course. Well I'm sure he told you all about your new talent."

Her head slowly nodded, she felt someone pulling on her hair, "A model."

"Not just any model, you'll be special."

Another beautician speedily moved to Pandora's front, immediately beginning the makeup.

"So I hear," she whispered after a time.

She could taste the balm as soon as the makeup artist brushed it on her lips.

Her brown eyes peered around. No sign of him at all. She wondered if President Snow was just egging her on. With as much casualness as she could muster she twitched her eyes to Caradoc, "I was told Finnick Odair was part of the campaign."

He was leafing through sketches, but his hands soon stopped at the mentioning of the name.

"Is there something you want to ask, Pandora?"

Suddenly she felt embarrassed. He had the strangest expression on his face, one that made Pandora feel queasy.

"No—I was—I was just wondering."

His eyes lingered on her, an amused smile was on his face, "Yes, yes Mr. Odair is here."

Her lips rubbed together nervously.

"In fact, it's just you two."

"What?"

"For the campaign—we only needed two models. I figured what's a better way to start off the 69th Hunger Games than a photography shoot with two young Victors."

"But there are several other more qualified Victors to choose from."

"President Snow thought we needed fresh faces, he insisted."

Her eyes narrowed. The only word to describe Pandora's emotions at that moment was trapped. It felt like there was an obscure joke going on that she had been left out of. Something odd was happening.

Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty.

"By Land or Sea."

"What did you say?"

"That's what we're calling the campaign…By Land or Sea. Fitting isn't it?"

Her back pressed further into the chair. A clever pun for a campaign featuring Finnick Odair and Pandora Sullivan. One Victor from Panem's ocean District and the other from its forests. It felt contrived, almost stupidly humorous, but that was the Capitol. As soon as Pandora heard the name she knew the citizens would eat it up, love every minute of it.

Her fingers drummed against her thighs, "Yes, quite fitting."

What felt like hours was really only a few more minutes. The hairdresser had left Pandora's hair down. When she caught a glimpse of herself she noticed that it looked rather messy, with sparkling leaves and violet flowers gently placed among her dark hair. Her makeup was the most interesting, or rather dramatic, aspect. They had painted her eyelashes, making them thick and long. Sparkling emerald eye shadow coated her lower eyelids, with glimmers of bronze in the corner. Her lips were also an emerald green, something that had shocked Pandora instantly. As a finishing touch the makeup artist dusted a shimmer all over her naked body.

"Alright, it looks like we're ready," Caradoc whispered to himself, glancing over Pandora's body.

She furrowed her brow, lowering her eyes, "Don't you think I'm missing something? Like clothes?"

"This is your costume."

"I'm not wearing anything," she couldn't help but notice a few of the beauticians laughing.

"No—you're not. Is that a problem?"

It took a moment for the reply to sink in. She lowered her eyes once more, "Of—of course not…" her lips parted, "Of course, this will be fine."

"Good. You can wear a robe until we get to the stage, got it?"

She grabbed the silk robe, uncomfortably starting towards the doors. The floor was cold against her bare feet. Panic suffocated her.

"Finally!" The photography exclaimed as they entered the cavernous room, "We've been waiting on you."

"Relax, Milo," Caradoc quickly spat out, "We're here now."

Pandora's mouth was suddenly dry. Her eyes cautiously moved around the room. She found herself counting how many people were there, how many people would see her naked. Her hands gripped the robe tightly.

"Well, come on then!" The photography grumble, pointing to the stage as he snapped a large lens onto his camera.

Her eyes moved towards the white platform, instantly her body tensed.

Finnick was already standing in place.

He had a towel around his waist, but if her costume was anything to go by she knew that it wouldn't be on for long.

When Finnick looked at her he seemed sad.

"Pandora," Caradoc was to her side, hissing in her ear, "Get a move on."

She felt her breathing hitch.

"I—I don't want to," she whispered back.

"What?"

Her eyes shifted to Caradoc, she sounded like a pleading child, "Please, I don't like this. I feel uncomfortable."

"Pandora—don't be dramatic. It's alright."

"No—please—"

She tried to take step back but Caradoc quickly pushed her forward. He murmured something to her just before she started to ascend the few steps of the stage.

The floor creaked underneath her feet.

Pandora couldn't bring herself to look at Finnick, her cheeks flushed in shame.

At the center of the stage the lights were so bright, for a moment she was blind, but slowly the shadows of the photographer came into view.

There was a designer near him with sketches and notes in his hand. He seemed to be directing the whole thing.

"Alright, get rid of the robe and towel," he said, rapidly approaching Finnick and Pandora with an eye of scrutiny.

Finnick's reaction was instant. He discarded the towel, keeping his feet a shoulder's width apart and returning his gaze to the design director. But Pandora didn't move. She dropped her eyes, nervously bowing her head to her chest. Maybe this was just another nightmare, maybe she would wake up and be back in District 7. Her breathing became uneven as she tried to talk herself into waking up from this ongoing night terror.

"C'mon, Miss Sullivan, I'll need the robe off."

"Right…" she managed, her green lips trembled, "Of course."

Slowly she unknotted the tie. Before she could fully shrug the robe off her arms the director snatched it away and tossed it into the shadows.

She was standing, naked and vulnerable. Shame so deeply felt and gut wrenching crashed inside her.

"Now what I want here is for Mr. Odair to be on the ground."

He grabbed Finnick, placing him against the sleek white stage.

"I want you to have a strong posture, yes?"

"Miss Sullivan, you sit against him, with your back pressed to his chest and torso."

Pandora was standing awkwardly. After a seconds hesitation the director lowered her to the floor himself.

Her muscles flexed involuntarily as she felt her legs, arms and back press against Finnick.

"Now lean into him."

Her eyes darted around.

"Yes, melt into him."

Her head leaned against his chest, her chin tilted up. Although her face seemed calm and relaxed she was petrified. She had never been naked in front of so many people, let alone with a man. It felt like her whole body was shaking, but she knew that it was all in her head.

"Brilliant!" He exclaimed, jumping off stage towards the photographer.

"Now! Mr. Odair if you could place your arms around her chest and cover her breasts with your forearm, hold her…"

A gasp escaped her as Finnick followed the director's instructions.

"Yes, yes like that!"

Suddenly the camera started flashing.

She could feel his heart racing, feel the same humiliation in his touch that was in hers.

"Part your lips more, Miss Sullivan!"

"Fix your arm!"

"Put your hand in his hair! No not like that! Like this!"

She furrowed her brow, trying to obey the orders being barked at her. Everything became so mechanical, even the smallest gesture or movement became important. They rarely said things to Finnick, Pandora figured it was because he was used to this.

Her breathing deepened as more and more lights flashed.

They were photographed for an hour with only a few breaks to readjust the poses. At the end of it all Pandora finally found her robe and pulled it on.

When she lifted her eyes she caught Finnick watching her. Slowly her hand lifted in a stagnant wave, her eyes softened.

He gave her the best smile he could muster, but it looked painful.

"That was superbly done," Caradoc's voice pulled her attention away.

She whirled around. Her eyes hardened once more.

"You should see the prints, the Capitol isn't going to know what hit them. Vibia will want a signed photo, you know how she is. "

"I'm sure," she harshly replied, pulling a loose leaf out of her wild hair.

"Smile, Pandora, this is a big deal, and you've done well."

The leaf twirled between her fingers, her jaw clenched. Sudden and violent contempt rushed through her.

"Forgive me if I don't smile, Caradoc."

"What's got into you?"

"President Snow showed me the photographs."

There was a beat of silence, one that confirmed Pandora's hateful disdain.

"What?"

Her brown eyes narrowed, "Tell me—was it you that was spying on me? Or did you have one of you lackeys do it? Maybe one of the camera crew?"

He tried to smile, "Pandora, dear, let's not get off topic."

"Oh," a dark laugh blew past her bitter lips, "Right. We wouldn't want to get off topic. That would be wrong."

"Look here, Pandora—"

He reached for her arm but she quickly pushed him away.

Suddenly her narrowed eyes filled with overwhelming ire. Her teeth gritted as she leaned towards him.

"I'm not a little girl, Caradoc, and I'm no fool. Do not test me."

She took a defiant step towards him. The overpowering urge to defend herself was flooding from her. She couldn't stop what happened next.

"You better watch yourself."

Caradoc's face looked sharp and severe, "Is that a threat?"

"I suggest you tread lightly."

"Pandora?! Are you okay?" The tenor voice made her snap out of it. Finnick was to her side, touching her shoulder. Immediately her posture shifted from tense to passive. She blinked her eyes away from Caradoc.

"I'm—I'm fine."

"Are—" Finnick peered to Caradoc and frowned, "Are you sure?"

In an instant Pandora felt weak. Her eyes closed, her hand reached for her brow. It wasn't until she looked back to Caradoc that she realized how callous she had been. Pandora was more than sure Caradoc would relay this back to Snow, sure that in some way she would pay for this slip of the tongue.

However, much to her surprise, Caradoc simply glowered.

He proudly titled his chin up, his judging eyes were staring down at her, "Everything is just fine, Mr. Odair. We were just discussing the fine art of photography. Weren't we, dear?"

Pandora's breath shuddered. Fingers curled into fists. "Yes," she breathlessly lied, "Yes, we were."

With only a final look to Finnick and Pandora, Caradoc nodded. He seemed to laugh to himself a little before he slowly walked off.

She stared after him, her lips curled as she bit back the hate and reached for a bottle of water.

Pandora had only taken a few sips before she noticed Finnick was staring at her.

"Yes?" Her eyebrow arched.

He smiled with a laugh, it almost sounded embarrassed.

"It's nothing. I just—it feels like a while since we last saw each other, and then all this—"

Her eyes dropped, heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the photo shoot that had just happened.

"I mean, what are you even doing in the Capitol?"

"I had—" Her lips parted with a sigh, she was struggling to come up with an explanation, "I had an appointment."

"You look ridiculous in that makeup, you know."

A subtle smile formed on her lips, "I think I look charming."

He gave her laugh, his eyes briefly glancing around. Finnick was already back in his clothing. His lips faltered, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Pandora stared at him, observing the subtle and uncomfortable shifts in his posture. His bronze skin seemed to glow in the studio's light, but not as brightly as it should have, in fact he looked a little pale.

"Is something wrong?"

"What?"

She smiled, "You seem nervous, Finnick."

"_Miss Sullivan!?" _

The beauticians were calling her name. It was time to get out of makeup. She peered over her shoulder, nodding to a chubby woman with red tattoos.

Urgently she turned back around to face him, "How long are you in the Capitol?"

"I'm mentoring. I'll be here for a while and then back in District 4 for the Reaping."

"So…"

"Until the Games are over."

At the mentioning of the Hunger Games the air became thick and solemn.

"Another Games," Pandora quietly whispered, "It seems like just yesterday that_—"Miss Sullivan!"_

She blinked her eyes to the side, "I—I'm sorry, I should go…they're waiting for me."

"I'd like to see you."

"Well if you wait, it will only be a few minutes."

"No, not now," he seemed to hesitate, "I have a…well, an appointment."

Pandora wondered if he was going to talk to President Snow. She scanned over his face and body. As he said the word_ appointment_ his whole being seemed to convulse in disgust.

"Alright then."

"Tomorrow?" He asked through a gloomy grin.

She nodded quietly, "See you then."

She was about to turn around when she felt him move closer.

"I'm sorry."

Shock swept over her. Her eyes widened. "Sorry for what?"

"I didn't want this to be how we…"

His green eyes briefly peered down at her body. Suddenly Pandora was aware that she only in a robe.

"…how we met each other again."

"Finnick, it's fine. I'm fine. It's all for fun."

"You get better and better at that, you know?"

"At what?"

He drew closer to her, smiling slightly, "Lying, pretending, whatever it is that you do."

Her eyes darkened. He didn't mean it as a criticism, he was making a joke, but it made her tense, it made her feel bad.

Finnick noticed this right away and leaned away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"No," her lips sadly twitched, "It's okay. It was a joke."

"Then why aren't you laughing?"

"_Miss Sullivan, this is the last time I'm going to ask nicely!" _

"Finnick, I have to go…"

"Right, yea," he rubbed the back of his neck, "Me too."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Meet me in the City Circle at noon."

She silently nodded, giving him one final glance before turning around. Although Pandora never looked back she could hear every footstep he took. It wasn't until she heard the door shut that she allowed herself to peer around with a pause in her steps.

"Finally…" the beautician scoffed, shuffling towards Pandora, "What are you looking at?"

Pandora stared at the exit, her mind was on Finnick. "Nothing, I just….it's nothing."

As the beauticians took off her makeup and helped her back into her street clothes she couldn't shake a feeling in her gut. It felt like her stomach was in knots and she couldn't explain why.

By the time they had finished it was midafternoon. The photography studio was dark and dim, and there was no one left but her and a few others.

She took the same passages and doors that she came in through, stopping from time to time to make sure she was going the right way.

The air was cool as she pushed through the doors, her feet pattered against the sidewalk. The car was waiting just near the curve in the road.

When she climbed into the back seat and shut the door the driver gave her a quick nod before revving up the engine.

Her finger slowly rubbed together as a jolt shook through the car and they started off. At first Pandora didn't think anything of it, but it wasn't long before she realized they were going in the opposite direction they had come from.

"Excuse me," she leaned forward, "Excuse me, sir?"

The driver peered at her in the mirror.

"Shouldn't we be going that way? Back to my apartment?"

"No, ma'am. We have one more stop."

"One more stop?"

"Yes, ma'am, we do."

He clicked his tongue, turning the steering wheel to a sharp right. With wide eyes Pandora grabbed the seat, trying to keep from smashing into window.

She didn't ask any more questions after that, mainly because she didn't want to know the answer, but her eyes stayed open. She scanned the streets they passed, occasionally peering up at the colossal buildings.

It had just started to rain when the driver finally did stop the car. Her eyes focused on the building he had pulled close to. It was made of gleaming silver steel, although there were quite a few windows on the bottom half of the building, they slowly lessened towards the top. The affect this had on Pandora's eyes was strange. Her hand moved to the handle, just before opening she saw someone heading towards the vehicle.

The person reached Pandora just as she was climbing out.

"Hello, there."

"Hello."

"I'm here to escort you, Miss Sullivan."

It was a man in white lab coat.

Silently she followed him. Her eyes frantically peered around as they entered the facility. As with all the other buildings, it had the same modernity to it, however something was different about this one.

"Just this way," The man said, pressing his hand against a screen before the door opened.

"Where am I?"

The man didn't slow down.

"You're in PSO Facilities, don't worry…we're almost there."

The name meant nothing to her, but judging by the amount of white lab coats in the building she had an idea of what kind of place this was. Her eyes noted several details: the sterile quality to every corridor they passed through, the high level of security, and finally the syringe in her escorts coat pocket. It was some sort of medical facility. Something inside her prickled sharply. She was afraid.

They came to another palm identification screen, by Pandora's count this was around the 5th one.

"What do you have back there? A gold mine?" She managed to joke through the anxiety.

The man peered behind him and laughed, "No…it's just a precaution."

With a loud beep and clang the door opened.

Her mouth dropped open as they entered through the doorway. A long hall stretched ahead of them, with windows lining the sides. She slowed her steps, gazing through the windows in amazement. Each one looked into a different lab. She passed one filled with scientists doing tests on radiation, another with a hive of tracker jackers, and there were more obscure ones, ones with no identifiable experiments.

She was fascinated and equally disturbed.

They continued on for only a few more minutes.

The scientist led her to a small room with a couch and two chairs. Medical journals and anatomy books lined the bookshelves. On a coffee table in the center was a set of strange black and white prints that she couldn't quite discern.

"Take a seat…he'll be with you shortly."

She spun around, "Who will be—"

The door shut before she could finish.

Pandora paced from left to right, unable to sit. From time to time her eyes would move to a dusty clock near the window. Why the mystery? That man could have told her what was going on but he didn't. She started biting her nails. From the moment she had rolled into the Capitol's train station it was a chaotic web of unknowns. As the hours continued on it was becoming worse.

In frustration she glanced to the door. Still no one.

A sigh escaped her. She was pacing faster now.

Her chest felt tight, like her muscles were squeezing her ribcage.

"Pandora?"

The accent was distinctly Capitol.

Her brow furrowed, she turned towards the door. She had barely heard it open.

Standing in front of her was a man. He had grey wiry hair and clear blue eyes. He wore a white coat like the others, but underneath he had a sloppy appearance to the way he dressed. A bulbous nose protruded from the planes of his face.

"Do I know you?"

He placed a folder on the coffee table and smiled.

"Officially? No. We met a year ago, when you were fresh out of the arena."

She took a step back and squinted her eyes, trying to recall.

"I understand if you can't remember, after all you were strapped to a gurney and beaten rather badly."

Slowly her eyes widened. Realization overtook her. Memories flashed. The faint recollection of a doctor leaning over her, the first few moments when she was out of the arena, when she was on the brink of death. He had been clean-shaven then, now he wore a small beard.

"I—" her eyes closed for a minute as the painful memories continued.

"Are you alright?"

She staggered, gasping as the man grabbed her.

When she looked up at him she was taken back in time, "You—You said you'd fix me."

Disguised by a beard was a whisper of a smile, he was surprised she had remembered that. "Yes, I did."

"Who are you?"

The doctor stepped back, it was then that Pandora noticed he had a limp in his walk.

"I'm Dr. Mironov…but please, call me Viktor."


	12. Night Dogs

_Night Dogs _

Her feet shuffled back suspiciously.

Pandora didn't respond right away, she couldn't form words.

Memories of the arena, death, and grief were blurring her reality. The realization of who Viktor Mironov was had propelled her into the past, to her bloody body on a gurney with a broken leg, fingers, and soul.

She blinked her eyes away, suddenly noticing that her nails were digging into her palms.

"Would you like some water?"

A strand of hair fell in front of her eyes. She was darkly peering at him now, inspecting him.

He had kind eyes but it didn't matter to Pandora. He was from the Capitol, which meant there was no way she would ever trust him.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Suit yourself," he took three limped strides to his desk and lowered his bag down with a thud, "I'm sorry I'm late, I was detained."

"You—You work in this place? Aren't you a doctor?"

Mironov's bushy eyebrows rose, his eyes glanced her way, "I am, but I'm also a scientist, you know. I split my time up between the infirmary and PSO. Believe it or not I prefer the sick people to this drafty place…just between you and me, it gives me the creeps."

Blood rushed to her brain, she could feel her heart pumping.

"I don't know why I'm here—but—I shouldn't be."

"Pandora?"

"Don't say that! You don't know me!"

Her gaze shifted to the door.

Mironov slightly tilted his head as he unfolded a pair of glass that had been resting in his lab coat. He cleared his throat as his fingers gingerly placed them on the bridge of his bulbous nose.

A smirk stretched his lips. He had noticed where she was looking.

"I suppose you could run," he gave his bad leg a loud thump, "It's not like I'd be able to catch you."

It wasn't until Mironov laughed that Pandora realized it was a joke. Her lips parted anxiously.

"What do you want with me?"

"Relax. No one's going to bite. Just take a seat."

"Do I have a choice?"

The cut in her words wasn't lost on the doctor. Pandora waited, expecting a snide laugh or maybe even a pointed remark, instead Mironov's smile dropped. He shook his head carefully, creasing his already wrinkled brow in confusion.

"Pandora—of course you have a choice. I'm not keeping you here against your will, whenever you feel like leaving, you leave."

The response stunned her. Whether it was a lie or truth, Pandora wasn't unable to tell. She clenched her jaw. Whoever this doctor was he was here for a purpose, he wanted something from her. No amount of politeness would make her forget that fact.

However, in spite of all of that, she dropped her eyes, "Alright—I guess I could sit."

The couch creaked as she slid onto the cushions and tensely looked around.

"All this rain is getting to my knee, I think…or maybe I'm just aging at a faster rate. I swear I was 30 just last year. But I guess at some point it becomes hard to keep track."

He was rambling casually and continuously, something that was throwing Pandora off. It seemed to be an attribute that was characteristic of him.

Over his talking she heard him fiddling with something on his desk. It wasn't until she forced herself to look his way that Pandora noticed what was in his hand.

He held a syringe up to the light and grabbed a few swabs.

A tremor of fear sent a heavy breath past her lips.

"What are you doing with that?"

Beams of the floor shook as he limped towards her, "First things first, you know. I figured we'd get the chores out of the way. Now, please take off your coat and roll your sleeve up."

"No—no, absolutely not."

He froze in confusion, "Excuse me?"

"You're not getting near me with that!"

"Afraid of needles?"

She twitched her eye from the syringe to Mironov's face, "I said no."

"Well what the devil do you think I'm going to do to you, anyways?!" It was almost humorous how he exclaimed the question.

She was trying to catch her breath. Her nerves were already on edge from her meeting with Snow and the photo shoot. Now, the Capitol wanted to stick her with needles like a pincushion

"What is that for?" She repeated, this time more calmly.

"A blood sample, I'm not performing a lobotomy or anything…at least not yet."

Her eyes widened in fear. This made the old doctor chuckle to himself.

"I'm kidding," a faint smile appeared on his face, "Don't worry. Just give me your arm before we both start gathering dust."

There was a second's hesitation before she pulled her coat off and rolled the sleeve of her dress up. Dr. Mironov waited patiently, smiling a little at the way her brown eyes cautiously glared at the needle.

"This will sting just for a moment," He rasped, inserting the needle with precision and care.

Her fingers twitched at the sharp pain. This wasn't the first time the Capitol had wanted her blood. She scanned the doctor's face as she recalled the night before the arena, when Adric had taken the sample.

"Why do you need my blood?" The question came out before she could stop herself.

The syringe started to fill up with a flash of crimson. His eyes didn't leave the syringe as he spoke: "For some data—just a health check-up really."

"You're lying."

He delicately pulled the needle out and grabbed a vile from his pocket.

"I am?" He replied as he began to siphon the blood into the small test tube.

"This isn't the first time I've had my blood taken—isn't once enough for a check-up? Not to mention I was checked by doctors a year ago when I was reaped for the Games."

"You've just traveled all over Panem, you've come into contact with all sorts of people. This is simply a precaution."

Her eyes narrowed. He wasn't going to say a thing, but she knew it was all lies. For some reason they were harvesting her blood. She winced at the image that popped into her brain. The thought of scientists analyzing and studying her, like a cadaver on a table or dusty old medical journal.

Dr. Mironov was taking extra care as he screw the top on the vile. He placed it into a plastic bag near his desk before he returned to the sitting area, this time lowering himself onto one of the chairs across from Pandora.

"Is that it, then?"

His eyes lifted to her face in surprise, "Is what it?"

"Can I leave? Are we done?"

"You're that hurried? Is it something I said?"

His blue eyes twinkled as his lips once again stretched into a smile…but Pandora didn't return it, her eyes and face remained withdrawn.

"You're trying to be funny."

"You don't like me, I see that."

"No," she agreed, "I don't like you."

Mironov crossed his legs, nodding in thought, "I hope it's not from any prejudices."

"What?"

"Well, it's just that you seem hostile, and I haven't done anything to you. Almost as If you're expecting me to do something."

"Spare me the pretense, Dr. Mironov."

"Viktor, just call me Viktor."

"Well, Viktor, you and I both know that you just need what you were assigned to get from me. Judging by your face I know it's not only my blood, though apparently that seems to be in high demand."

"What are you referring to?"

She pursed her lips. "I'm referring to the sample you took from me before the arena. You had Officer Pedersen take that. I'm sure you're also credited with the serum he gave me."

"Adric—such a nice young man."

Her brow furrowed, that wasn't what she was trying to get at.

"The kid's had a tough life, first his mother dies and now all the pressure with his father."

Pandora had no idea what Dr. Mironov was talking about but she didn't care, "Yes—I'm sure a Capitol elite has had a terrible terrible life."

He didn't seem shocked by her quick and sharp response, in fact he looked rather calm. Quietly he scratched at his small beard, "You seem angry."

"Insightful."

"Pandora, whatever you may think I am, I'm not."

"So you're not the person who is responsible for the death of all those children in the arena, all those children that died from that gas."

Suddenly an image of Petro's mangled body and Scorch's foaming mouth flashed through her mind.

"I did what I had to. If I hadn't, you wouldn't be here."

"And maybe the world would be a better place."

Dr. Mironov leaned back. Only a glimpse of strain could be seen in his eyes.

"You blame yourself?"

Her eyes peered away from the doctor, her head craned to the side with sudden agitation, "Do you think I'm that stupid? To blame myself?"

"I think you're that human."

She corner-eyed him. Her heart hurt suddenly.

"What do you want from me?"

He traced the edge of his jaw with a shrug, "I was just hoping we could talk."

"Talk? I thought you were a doctor."

"I'm many things."

"So you're a surgeon scientist who likes to yap?"

A smirk wrinkled his cheeks, showing the crow's feet around his eyes, "The President has asked me to look after you…to talk."

"Her face soured, "I don't need a psychiatrist."

"May I be honest with you, Pandora?"

She arched her eyebrow, "You can try, I suppose."

Again he smiled. "I would much rather be performing surgeries and doing my own research, but as it is I don't really have a choice. I've been asked to be your confidante, so as an obedient civil servant I am going to try."

"Why you?"

"I suppose the President thought because I saved your life and fixed you up that it was appropriate."

Pandora gritted her teeth, "I don't need to talk to anyone."

"You're missing your family?"

The impulsive question made her mouth go dry.

She turned her face away, rubbing her forehead harshly.

"What do you think?" She sarcastically growled.

Again, Mironov was unaffected by her quips. Sincerely he pulled his glassea off and tucked them back in the breast pocket of his coat.

"I've upset you?"

Bitter pride filled her. She narrowed her eyes, straightening her back as she glowered at him, "No, Viktor, you haven't."

"It's fine if I had. Maybe I shouldn't have asked, it's only that—well—you remind me of someone I once knew."

"Oh yea? And who is that?" she scoffed.

"Yes, my daughter…believe it or not."

Pandora's eyes shifted to him abruptly. He was staring at the ground as if in a trance.

"Not in temperament, of course…she was much sweeter than you are. But something about your physical appearance, something I can't quite put my finger on."

"Was?"

"Hm?"

"You said was."

"Oh—" a gruff sigh whispered from him, "Yes, well she died."

Shock softened her face.

"Of course, now we're getting side tracked, aren't we?"

"I'm sorry," she was surprised at her own words, "How did she—"

Mironov glanced from his hands to Pandora. Even when he was talking about such sadness his eyes looked lively and warm.

"Rebels. They murdered her and my wife."

"Why would they do that?"

"Wrong place, wrong time. I was traveling through District 3 with my family when the train was ambushed. Of course it's all…well it's not even in the records, you see, because we can't have that sort of business televised or documented. It would only lead to more unrest. It was quite a while ago though, feels like more than a lifetime."

Pandora had never thought of the rebels as murderers. The Capitol didn't broadcast the growing rebel fervor, mainly because it wasn't necessary. The rebels were a small group of people, not the entirety of a District. They worked mostly underground, traveling like mercenaries so the military would never catch them.

She chewed on the corner of her mouth, thinking over Mironov's story. She didn't know how to react to his words. Her head tilted away in reservation, but her eyes had relaxed.

"I know what it's like to miss your family," he continued, "Sometimes you wake up, not remembering they're gone, thinking that maybe it was all a horrible dream. But then reality sets in, you realize this is it, that they are gone."

Memories of her family started to surface like a film reel of images.

Her eyes hesitated to look into his.

"I don't think I can relate, my family isn't dead," the last word lingers on the tip of her tongue, churning her stomach.

"But it feels like that…doesn't it? As if the distance is just as bad as death itself."

"I haven't thought about it."

This was a lie, in fact it was all Pandora had been able to think about.

Knocks pummeled the door, suddenly interrupting the flow of the conversation. A split second past before a weasel-like scientist popped his head into the room.

"Dr. Mironov, we need you in the laboratory."

He barely glanced over his shoulder, "Right, of course, I'll be there soon."

The door quickly shut.

"Well, Pandora, I'll be seeing you."

He extended his hand to her. She stared at him briefly before shaking it.

"It was a pleasure," he added.

The longer she stared at him the more she noticed that he wasn't just looking at her. He was gazing, scanning her face.

"Yes, likewise, Dr. Mironov—"

"Ah! What did I say about that?"

"Sorry—Viktor."

Mironov gave her on final nod before limping towards the door.

He left with a sad smile on his face. Her guide showed up several minutes after to escort her out.

She was directed through the PSO the same way she had come in. This time her eyes didn't move around in curiosity, instead they were glued to the floor. Over and over she tried to make sense of her meeting with Dr. Mironov, but there were no rational reasons for it.

Rain poured from lead clouds as the car sped through the lamp-lined streets. The sun had set, night had once again captured the Capitol.

When the car came to a stop outside of the familiar glass tower she paused.

"Sir—sir?"

The driver jerked his head around. He had muddy eyes and sharp nose.

"Could you tell me something?"

"Depends on what that something is."

"The place I just came from—"

"PSO."

"Yes. What does PSO stand for?"

He sniffed loudly, adjusting the leather trimmed cap on his head, "That would be Panem Special Operations."

Her heart sank and her stomach tightened.

She walked through the lobby and into the elevator like a zombie.

When her hand pressed against the small panel just as Adric had shown her the night before, she felt like could collapse right there.

"_Welcome home, Pandora Sullivan." _

The locks and metal cranked and screeched.

As the door opened, the smell of sandlewood and steel wafted in her nostrils, the smell of her loft. She gave the wall of windows a brief and hateful glare when she passed them. Her hands slowly began pulling pieces of clothing off. By the time she reached her bedroom she was naked, save for Dash's bracelet and a tiny cotton swab on her arm from where Dr. Mironov had taken blood.

It was quiet in her glass tower.

Only the sound of rain tinged her ears.

The sheets were cold and smooth as she settled into the darkness of her bed and nestled her head against a pillow. Her fingertips caressed the taped cotton swab.

What was so special about her blood?

Why did it need to be tested?

Why was she taken to Panem Special Operations?

These questions and more buzzed in her brain, consuming her.

She tried to come up with solutions, to come up with rational explanations, but there were none to be found.

Tomorrow she would see Finnick. Goosebumps prickled her back and arms. She should have been more excited but shame distracted her, shame from the photo shoot. Shame from allowing herself to get into that situation. She didn't want to know what Finnick must think of her now.

Sleep slowly blanketed her and, though she tried to resist its seduction for fear of nightmares, her eyes gradually closed. Darkness followed. Restless sleep awaited her.

The next morning it felt like a ton of bricks had been resting on her chest all night.

Her eyes opened, harshly taking in the points and ridges of the bedroom. For a moment she clung to the sheet, not wanting to get up but then it hit her.

"Finnick," she whispered.

Instantly she threw the covers off and checked the clock near the bed. It wasn't that long before noon.

She showered and dressed as quickly as she could. Her eyes darted around the lobby, nervously twitching towards the desk. The concierge was nowhere to be found. This gave her some small relief.

"Where to Miss Sullivan?" the driver groggily whispered.

"The City Circle, please."

He peered at her in the mirror, "Are you sure? It might be busy."

"The City Circle," she repeated.

He mumbled something to himself before starting the engine. Within a few a seconds they were on their way.

She leaned closer to the window, mentally cataloguing the route the car was taking so that she could remember it for later. Whoever this man was driving her, he answered to someone, someone who no doubt told President Snow every move Pandora was making.

She sighed slowly, widened her eyes. Next time she would go on foot, she would remember this trail and go on foot.

It was a short drive to the City Circle. Her eyes rose to the sights and curves form by the beautiful architecture surrounding the keyhole-like square. They reached the edge of where the road curved before she spoke.

"Right here is fine."

She was scanning the vast stone and rock clearing when she stopped short. Her hand suddenly dropped. To the north, along the large façade of one of the buildings was a billboard so huge that it took up most of the tower. Her mouth tensed at the sight of the figures.

It was Finnick and Pandora, a photograph from the campaign pictures the day before.

Staring at it was like an out of body experience. In the picture she didn't look awkward or uncomfortable, actually it was quite the opposite. A fire lingered in her brown eyes. Near the edge of the billboard, in bold black letters, read the phrase _By Land or Sea_.

"Miss?"

She caught her breath, turning to the front again.

"Are you sure you should be going out there alone? You have one of the most recognizable faces in Panem right now."

"I'll be fine, I—" she peered back to the window. When she finally managed to drop her eyes from the billboard, she noticed that Finnick was already waiting in the middle of the roundabout, "I'll be fine, alright?"

"Huh, Alright…I guess," he mumbled with doubt.

Strands of hair blew over her face as she exited the car.

At first he was just a silhouette, but slowly his face and body became clearer. When she saw him, she hesitated, politely smiling as she dashed across the street.

"You're late."

She shook her head, "You're early."

Finnick was wearing a grey coat that looked out of place on him. Winter clothes never suited Finnick. His auburn hair stirred in the wind as he peered past her at the car.

"You have a driver?"

Pandora nervously brushed her hair behind one ear, "You don't?"

He grinned with a laugh, "The perks just keep getting better."

Instantly she dropped her eyes.

"I'm only kidding, Pandora."

"Yea, I know. You think you're funny."

"Think?"

A coy smile lit up her face, but still her eyes moved around the City Circle subconsciously. Anyone could pass by and see them, know who they were instantly.

"You look better now that you're not covered in glitter."

She looked back at him, "You look better now that you have clothes on."

His pearly teeth gleam with one of the biggest grins Pandora had ever seen, "C'mon I know where we can go."

She furrowed her brow as she felt Finnick grab her hand and pull. Her feet stumbled in place for a minute.

"What are you doing?!" She whispered.

"Hurry, before your driver sees."

She let him drag her further, turning back to see if the driver was looking. He wasn't, something was distracting him on the dash of the car. He was completely unaware that they were moving. Instincts told her that this wasn't smart, that somehow she would be punished for slipping away, even if it was for a few minutes. But then Finnick laughed and her attention shifted ahead of her. The laugh made her smile grow.

They had sprinted across the street and down an alley. At the mouth she could see that only a few paces away an opening waiting in between two tall hedges. Her feet stopped before they entered.

"What is this?"

"The Sculpture Gardens."

Her eyes danced around. The ground was cobblestone, only a few patches of grass poke through. All along the ways were various statues, sculptures, and fountain, some with plaque below them, and others remaining anonymous. A maze of hedges enclosed them. It felt like they were tucked away into some private sector of the Capitol, but beyond the hedges Pandora could still hear the pedestrians and traffic of the City Circle.

"A strange looking garden," she finally whispered.

Finnick silently took a seat while wrestling with the sleeves of his jacket. When she sat next to him a cool wind swept water from the overflowing fountains onto the ground.

Just over the hedges she could still see the campaign advertisement. Without realizing her eyes narrowed angrily.

"Are you okay?"

The question interrupted her thoughts. She lowered her eyes and shook her head. "It's just this advertisement, it's completely ridiculous."

"Yes, I wasn't expecting to see you there."

"Weren't you?"

"You were expecting me?"

She corner-eyed him, "I was told you'd be there."

He was also looking at the advertisement. He licked his lips in silence. The silence lasted a few heartbeats, it made Pandora anxious. She found herself trying to think up something to say, but nothing came to mind.

"I wish it had been someone else instead of you," his words broke the quiet.

"What?"

"I just—I know it made you uncomfortable. I wish you didn't have to do it."

Her jaw clenched as she recalled being stark naked in front of an audience of designers, photographers, workers, and Finnick.

"It could have been worse," she finally said, denying her own embarrassment.

He smirked for a moment, tilting his head up, "I guess it always can get worse, can't it?"

They peered at each other slowly, both sharing a dull and restrained laugh before looking away.

"I missed you, you know?"

Her smiled instantly hardened into straightened lips. It was strange to hear. Strange because to Pandora their friendship had never fully taken off. They were friends, or at least that's what Finnick had said. The warmth Pandora felt for him had been there on the beach in District, but sitting next to him now she couldn't help but feel tongue-tied and distant.

"Thank you," she awkwardly replied.

His laugh was abrupt, almost shocking, "Well, you're welcome, I guess."

Her cheeks flushed. That wasn't the right way to respond. Suddenly she felt stupid and callous.

"I should go—my driver, he'll be looking for me."

She tried to get up but Finnick grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

She stared at him in surprise.

"No, let's just sit here for a while."

"And do what? Someone might see us. Do you want to deal with a mob?"

His smile was gentle, "No one will see us. I just want to talk, just for a little while longer."

Her brown eyes were glued to his face. His hand was so warm in comparison to the cool air surrounding them. This was the first time she felt safe, the first time she felt comfortable since her return to the Capitol. When she looked into his eyes she knew that he felt the same way.

Hesitantly her hand slid away from his.

A smile to match his appeared on her face, "Alright, just for awhile."

This seemed to ignite a twinkle in his eyes. His green irises glimmered, "Good."

"Finnick?"

She looked away, trying to find the courage for the next words.

"Yea?"

"I—" she could feel her hands getting sweaty, "I missed you too."

Although she couldn't see him, Pandora knew he was smiling. A moment past before he leaned over and thoughtfully nudged her.

They sat there for what must have been hours, though it was hard for Pandora to keep track of time. It was close to sunset before she journeyed back to the car and received a scolding from the driver.

They left the City Circle with a spark of excitement and terror, the kind of emotions that are only evoked through the beginning of a true friendship. Pandora nervously twirled a bit of thread between her fingers. Her eyes gaze out of the windows. Suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

However, across town, in an altogether different place, another meeting was about to happen.

An envelope had just been delivered to one of the many offices of President Snow. He received it with a shrewd nod and no thanks, taking a sip of coffee before delicately opening it.

His pale eyes brightened as he flipped through the photographs.

They were black and white prints, taken just earlier that day at the Sculpture Gardens. Images of Finnick Odair and Pandora Sullivan talking near a fountain. There must have been fifty or so photographs in total but the President only looked at a few.

Three firm knocks suddenly sounded.

His eyes shifted to the doors of his office. His back pressed against the leather of his chair. His half moon eyes blinked.

"Come in."

Slowly the door opened. At firs the figure was cloaked in the darkness of the office, but as he approached the desk, a lamp illuminated his face.

"Ah, Dr. Mironov. What a pleasant surprise."

Mironov wasn't wearing his lab coat, but he still had the haphazard look of a sleepless scientist. He bowed his head in respect.

"Mr. President."

"I trust everything went smoothly yesterday?"

"Yes, she was pleasant."

"Do you have something for me?" Snow gestured towards the folder in Mironov's hand.

"It's the test results, I just got them back today."

"Please, take a seat."

Mironov limped into a skeleton chair across from President Snow. He scratched at his beard briefly, almost as if he were thinking about what to do next.

"Let's see what you found."

He slid the folder to Snow, swallowing hard before settling back into his seat.

"What you're looking at is the DNA I obtained from her blood sample, and right there you can see her chromosome count and chart—sir, are you sure this is right? She's just a girl."

"Viktor, don't you want to continue with your research? You told me she could be a candidate."

Mironov's blue eyes shifted from the blood results to Snow, "For all I know we have someone in the Capitol that matches the requirements."

"No, I want it to be her."

"Why, sir?"

Snow lifted two fingers to the side of his brow. He stayed quiet for a moment, as if he were truly contemplating Mironov's question.

"It just has to be her. I won't accept anyone else."

"Things could go wrong. The consequences of a failed attempt could be catastrophic, even leading to death."

"Viktor, you met Miss Sullivan, yes? Tell me—what did you think?"

"She's guarded, clever, and strong. From what I noticed she seems to be trying to detach herself from what is going as a coping mechanism."

Snow's smile grew.

"You remember that serum you created?"

"Yes. It's the reason why she survived the arena. I had Officer Adric Pedersen give it to her."

"What?! He doesn't know anything does he?" Suddenly Snow's tone was sharp.

"Of course not. He just followed my orders, he doesn't know anything about all this."

Snow paused, eyeing Mironov sternly.

"Well I was under the impression that that serum was the reason she survived too," he finally continued, "Just as you said. I thought I had made a mistake coaxing her into a written contract, in fact I even thought about just letting her die."

"What changed your mind?"

"I changed my mind when I saw her kill that boy from her home District."

The answer made Mironov feel sick. He stared at Snow, not knowing how to respond initially.

"Why—Why are you saying this, sir?"

"Because, Viktor, I've seen this girl be beaten, manipulated, and almost eaten alive. I've seen her stand up in front of a crowd of thousands and actually make them think she loved being reaped and crowned Victor. Each time she has faced these obstacles she has overcome them. She won't let herself die, Viktor. She thinks she has it in her to just die, but she doesn't. She will never give up. An admirable quality, one which she is completely unaware of, a quality that will work in our favor when the timing is right."

"This isn't the arena, President Snow. This is another animal. There are too many variables."

Snow lifted his coffee to his lips, smiling devilishly through the steam.

"Trust me, my dear Dr. Mironov. If there's anyone I believe in, it's Pandora Sullivan."


	13. The World Transformed

**Briefly I wanted to thank every one of you for the support the story has been given. I don't want to start rambling or anything but it means a lot that you're able to enjoy my story and characters :) Your feedback and reviews have been so nice.**

**ANYWAYS. Enough of me talking...or typing...hope you enjoy. **

* * *

_The World Transformed_

One month passed by faster than Pandora could have imagined. Before she knew it the 69th Hunger Games had arrived.

Within that month she had grown gradually closer to Finnick Odair.

He was her anchor to reality, without realizing it she began to rely more and more on his friendship. With all the chaos and vanity of the Capitol it was hard to feel like she wasn't suffocating, but somehow, when she was with Finnick, Pandora knew she could hold on, knew that there had to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Once the public caught wind that they were talking and visiting each other habitually the photographs and rumors began circulating. Within a week the Capitol press was a buzz, but they were only rumors. Finnick had gone through the same horror and grief that she had, he could relate. That was more than she could say for anyone else in her life, even her family.

_Family_.

The word was beginning to sound foreign. All she had left of them were the memories, memories that Pandora tried with all her might to hold onto. But her grasp on those remembrances was slipping. From time to time she wondered what they were doing, always a numbing grief swallowed her at this single thought. They would never forgive her for what she had done, this was something she knew. She knew it when she had looked President Snow in the eye and signed her name on the dotted line, and she understood it now.

President Snow.

The name itself was enough to make her cringe.

Rarely did Pandora see him. She hadn't talk with Snow since the second day in the Capitol, something she was thankful for. But it didn't matter. His eyes and ears were everywhere.

Her meetings with Viktor Mironov were frequent. Although she had her reservations about him, Pandora found herself slowly easing into what Mironov told her was a "relationship of confidentiality", meaning all private matters they discussed stayed between the two of them. Pandora didn't know if she believed everything the doctor told her. Then again she had nothing to hide, only the hate she felt for President Snow and the Capitol, but even that was no secret to the President himself.

Sometimes Mironov would give her strange tests, when she asked what they were for his characteristic clearness would blur into generalities. Most of the tests involved logic and clear reasoning, but then there were the other tests. Strange ocular exams and brain monitoring programs where she could see what the inside her skull by looking at a high-tech screen. Although Pandora was curious, she never asked question. There was no point. No answers would be given. So she did the tests, silently keeping her frustrations and confusion at bay.

Occasionally she found herself in the company of Adric Pedersen. Though within that month these meetings and interactions were brief, cordiality developed between the two. Pandora watched him with an eye of scrutiny always. Unlike all the other patrons of the Capitol, Adric spoke to her with a frank wit and, at times, understanding attitude. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but he was slowly becoming tolerable to be around.

Pandora was staring out of the window.

With a firm press to the accelerator the car sped down the street.

Spring was in full bloom and so were the Capitol crowds. The Hunger Games meant constantly crowds, cheers, and applause. Her eyes darkly took in the large screen panels that were lining the main way.

The Tributes had been chosen, now their faces were being broadcast with recaps of each District's reaping. A shiver swallowed her entire body as she recalled the day she had been reaped. Her jaw clenched as she recalled the anguish and torment of being ripped from her family and thrown into chaos and violence. The terror was still real, but somehow, through it all, she was anaesthetized.

Nearly a lifetime ago she had stepped onto the pedestal that launched her into an arena of ruins. She had been a different person then. The Hunger Games had forced her to grow up in the most gruesome way possible. It had taken away her innocence. Innocence that she would never get back.

Now more than ever she felt as if there were a ghoul in the shadows, waiting to dig its fury talons into her soul and pull her under.

Her hand clasped to her chest. She could feel it instantly: the constant threat of darkness looming close to her.

"Pandora, I don't think I can get through this street. Opening Interviews are in an hour, they're swarming."

Her eyes shifted to the front, the driver was staring at her in the mirror.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in frustration. They were only a block from the Hunger Games Municipal Tower. Fireworks were being set off in honor of the beginning games.

"That's fine. I'll just walk the rest of the way."

"I don't know—"

"It will be fine, Demetri."

"Alright, just don't tell that Officer Pedersen I let you. He'll have my head."

She gave him a nod and smile before pushing the door open and jumping out.

Her black heels clicked against the pavement. She was wearing a form fitting blue dress that ended just below her knees. As she leapt from the small patch of street to the sidewalk she arched her eyebrow.

"Hey, that's—that's Pandora Sullivan!"

"What?!"

"Where!?"

She braced herself for the crowds with stopping her feet.

Even though Pandora was becoming more acquainted with the roaring crowds and overwhelming fascination the Capitol seemed to have with her, she still felt the touch of fear as they approached. Truthfully she preferred the fans to the press.

_I'm just a fade for them_, she had to remind herself, _it will all pass when they get their new Victor. _

But something told her she was wrong.

Caradoc had Pandora doing multiple photo-shoots a week. Her face was all over Panem. They were trying to perpetuate her fame.

A few people pulled out their cameras and various devices to snap pictures of her, while others started flocking towards her with papers, napkins…anything they could find.

"Pandora!"

"Miss Sullivan!"

A small boy with blonde hair and enhanced gold eyes ran to her, "Can I have your autograph?"

His mother was close behind, looking more excited than the boy.

"Of course, here you go," in one quick glide she scribble her name on the wrinkled paper and handed it back to him.

By the time she reached the glass doors of the Tower her ears were ringing. Her forced smile faltered once she was well into the bawls of the building.

She was heading towards the backstage area, where she knew the mentors were waiting.

Her eyes glinted around as she entered the small antechamber that rested just off stage. It only took her a heartbeat to find him.

He was talking to one of the Tributes. When she walked in he looked up and smiled, returning his attention back to his mentees soon after.

Pandora patiently watched him. She couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't been appointed into a mentor position. President Snow had refused. The only reasoning Pandora could come up with was that he wanted to isolate her.

Her lips parted slowly as she peered to District 7's sections. She had been trying to avoid them since she knew they had been reaped. Marla Fenton and Camion Lewis. They were both young, Marla was only 13 and Camion 15.

Though she didn't know them well, it was still hard.

When they looked her way she stopped breathing for a moment. They were wide-eyed and innocent. All she could think when she saw them was death. Pandora saw herself in their eyes and she hated what was staring back at her.

"Pandora—"

Finnick pulled her attention away from District 7's Tributes. Her eyes widened as she turned to him.

"What are you doing backstage? You're supposed to be in the audience."

"I wanted to see you."

He smiled, "Yea? Well the circus is about to start. If Caesar Flickerman sees you he's going to jump on you like a hungry eel. I think he's in love with you."

She glanced around and laughed, "Right. Well good luck."

"You know I'm not the one that needs the luck."

Her smile dropped, she did know that.

"I'll be in the crowd," she whispered.

Before she could leave, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a warm hug, "I'll see you later."

Her feet stumbled when he released her but she quickly recovered, turning away.

She was just to the door when she heard a scoff and sarcastic laugh nearby. Her fingers were on the doorknob, her eyes twitched to the side. It was Johanna Mason. She was staring at Pandora and snickering.

A scarlet flush reached her cheeks. Pandora had never spoken to Johanna Mason, for unexplained reason she was terrified of Johanna. Her eyes lingered on the District 7 mentor a few more seconds before she self-consciously blinked her eyes to the floor and pushed through the doors.

A red light flashed, a robotic female voice broke through the staleness of the corridor.

"_5 minutes till Opening Ceremony Interviews." _

Suddenly she picked up her pace. It was hard in heels and a tight dress but she managed to reach the top of the stairs before the robot voice returned.

"_2 minutes till Opening Ceremony Interviews." _

She was walking along an outdoor way, her eyes dropped to the vast crowd below. They were chanting and hollering various things at the darkened stage.

Pandora was heading towards the open-air seating that had been set up for the Interviews. They were strictly for the more well to do of the Capitol, however some lesser class individuals were also present. It was perched above the crowd, facing the stage diagonally. Even with the restriction on the seating area there must have been, at least, 100 individuals waiting for the interviews to start.

"There you are."

In the darkness she twitched her eyes and tilted her head up. She could see his electric blonde hair in the dim light.

"I've been looking for you, you know?"

"I'm sure."

Her feet carefully descended a set of steps. Adric followed close by.

"I hear you decided to go for a stroll."

Pandora narrowed her eyes, glancing to him as she lowered herself into a vacant seat. He took the one next to her, adjusting his black uniform before he settled in.

"How did you know that?"

"You're a celebrity, you do realize that when you go for a walk crowds do gather, right? It's hard to not know when that happens."

Her eyes twitched to the stage.

"Well I don't see why it matters," she whispered back.

"It's dangerous."

"What are they going to do? Yell at me to death."

He slowly unbuttoned the top gold button of his uniform and grinned broadly, "Very funny."

"Well one of us has to be."

"We both know you don't have a sense of humor, Pandora."

She smirked but quickly reminded herself to remain indifferent, though she was sure that Adric noticed the reaction right away.

Suddenly the Panem anthem came crashing through the square.

"In all seriousness though," she could feel his breath in her ear as he leaned into her, "How can we protect you if you decide to just wander off?"

She ignored Caesar's introductions.

"Protect me?"

"Of course."

"I don't need protection, Adric."

He was watching her through the darkness, "You're stubborn."

"And you're annoying."

Adric rested his chin in his palm and corner-eyed her with a smirk, "Where were you anyways?"

"I'm watching the interviews."

"Oh…right."

He jokingly pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair, keeping his posture very proper and tidy, a soldier's posture.

Pandora peered at him and nervously fidgeted with her fingers.

"Why do you need to know, anyways? What's it to you?"

"Shh," he playfully glared at her and arched his eyebrows, "_I'm watching the interviews._"

An annoyed puff of air escaped her as she crossed her arms and shook her head. The reaction made him laugh.

She was trying to concentrate on the stage but truthfully she didn't want to. All she saw when she looked at these Tributes was her own experience in the arena. Her fingers traced the hem of her dress, gliding further down her leg to her kneecaps. As usual the Career Tributes were cocky and seemingly excited, everyone else played their parts as well as they could. Most had trouble pretending that they couldn't wait to fight to the death, but a few were believable.

After some time she felt Adric nudge her. When she turned to look he had his eyes on the stage, but his smile was aimed at her, "I asked because it's my job. But it's like it matters if you tell me or not."

"It's not your job, Adric. You're just nosy."

"Well, it should be my job."

"Oh yea?" She sarcastically quipped.

"It's not the fans I'm worried about, Pandora. If you got hurt—well—"

His posture shifted. Suddenly he was uncomfortable. She could see him sorting through things in his head, thinking of what to say.

"—I wouldn't want to be responsible for that."

"Relax, Officer."

A soothing laugh eased from him, "You relax, Miss Sullivan. I'll worry."

District 6's female Tribute was up. The crowd seemed bored with her but she had a sympathetic smile, though Pandora noted to herself that it looked forced.

She subtly chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at the faint silhouette of Adric's face. Her eyes narrowed before she spoke: "You don't want to know where I was then?"

Adric smiled, "I don't need to. I think I can figure that out myself."

"Is that a fact?"

"Obviously it's a fact. You were with Finnick Odair."

She visibly tensed.

"What?"

"You're always with him," he whispered back.

Pandora could hear a certain edge to his words. It almost sounded resentful.

"Lucky kid."

Her gaze moved to her hands, "As if you like to hang out with anyone besides your reflection and your medals."

"Ouch. Are you calling me handsome, Miss Sullivan?"

A smile broke across her face, she tried to hold back but a murmured laugh blew passed her lips, "Don't flirt with me. Mironov would be jealous."

Instant guilt filled her. The kind of guilt that always came to Pandora when she was mildly nice to Adric Pedersen. She felt like it was betraying her morals and her family to be kind to anyone from the Capitol, but sometimes Adric made it hard to be mean.

"You're still seeing him?"

She arched her eyebrow, slowly drawing back and becoming reserved again, "I don't really have a choice. Not all of us are as free as you."

The carefree expression on his face slowly morphed into a stone-like expression. He stared at her with wounded eyes.

A heartbeat passed. Slowly he looked away. His head tilted up and his back straightened as he reached for the top button of his uniform and fastened it. Suddenly he was a soldier again, stoic and dignified.

"I should be going," he whispered unexpectedly, "My post is almost up."

Before Pandora could say anything he stood to his feet and dashed down the dark aisle to the stairs.

She stared after him. Her brow furrowed with wide eyes.

So easily did Adric seem to shy away from her, as if her words actually meant something to him. He had been that way since the moment they meant. There was no way that Pandora could comprehend why. All she knew was what she saw, and what she saw was a young man from the Capitol, loyal to a government that she despised. She could never separate her hate of the Capitol fully from Adric because he was part of the problem.

Her eyes turned back to the stage. Caesar was interviewing the final Tribute.

Near the edge of the curtain she could see Finnick peering out. He was looking for her. The lights made his green eyes glimmer as they darted around.

Slowly her passive aggressive altercation with Adric melted away from her thoughts.

Before the lights in the audience came up she climbed to her feet and smiled.

Her heels gave her some trouble as she descended the steps and hastened towards the hallway.

At the edge of the annex to the backstage she saw all the Tributes filtering out. Some seemed joyful but most had doomed looks plastered to their faces. A few glanced at her with recognition.

"Looking for me?"

She spun around and gasped.

Finnick started laughing.

"You scared me…"

He shoved his hands in his pockets, "Let's get out of here, yea?"

"Are you sure you're not busy?"

He slung his arm around her shoulders, "For you, Pandora Sullivan, I always have time."

Fireworks were still going off when they exited the Tower. Photographers must have been tipped off because they were waiting at the entrance. She leaned into him and grimaced as the cameras started flashing.

"Pandora, Finnick!"

Finnick waved to a few of the journalists and photographers, making sure he kept his arm around Pandora. They were starting to crowd closer.

"Are the rumors true?!"

His grin wavered for a moment.

Pandora was hiding her face from the cameras with her hand.

She clawed at his shirt and winced.

"_Alright—back off—"_ Adric's voice broke through the yells and screams.

She briefly peered around. Two other soldiers of lower rank flanked him.

"Give them space!" he continued, signaling for the other men to push the press back.

Just before she felt Finnick's grasp on her tighten, Adric gave her a kind sad smile.

She nodded once to him with wide eyes and then, with an anxious sigh, she turned back, letting Finnick guide her home.

"I think we're making the morning headlines. Can you imagine if there was actually something going on between us?"

She was trying to shut out the roars and shouts.

"Just don't look back," She replied, cradling closer to him.

In the distance she heard Adric and the other soldiers making sure that they weren't being followed.

Her lips quivered. Just another night out. Another night of her life passing into nothingness.


	14. The New Deal

_The New Deal _

_The smell of dirt and pine surround her. Summer rays warm the streets. In the distance sawmills buzz. _

_Home. _

_She takes another step, peering to her side. August is there. He is smiling, he is laughing. When she looks at him his blue eyes glimmer. _

"_Where have you been?"_

_A slight expression of questioning covers Pandora's face, "What?"_

"_You're gone."_

"_I'm here—I'm right here—" _

_Her hands reach out to him and, for a split second, she grasps his shoulders. At first there is no sign of emotion on his face, but slowly he smiles. _

_She smiles back. _

_She is happy. _

_Thunder breaks through the joy, followed by the earth-shattering harmony of glass splintering. _

_Suddenly the warm sun is gone. It's fading into nothing. _

_August is staring at something to the east. _

"_August—I'm here!" _

_She tries desperately to grab his attention, but he doesn't look at her. He won't look at her. _

_His smile has vanished. _

_She dares to follow his gaze, towards the knolls and mountains beyond. _

_The hills' green has melted into black tar. The tar looks like it has a mind of its own, it's slithering towards the buildings like a monstrous flood of snakes. _

_Blood crimson is rising from the tree line. A single movement in the distance beckons her fears to be remembered. _

_It's a flag. _

_A Capitol Flag. _

_The golden Panem crest hatefully stares at her. _

"_August! We have to go!" _

_A crack rips from below. _

_Her eyes widened. _

_The ground is opening up. _

"_August!" _

_Her hold on him has slipped. She needs to get to him. She needs to save her brother. But the more she calls to him, the harder it is to see his face. _

_Heat rises from the cracks._

_Her eyes squint in pain to see a fire brewing below. _

_When she looks back up her feet stumble back. She is back in the arena. The city of ruins surrounds her. _

"_August! Run!" _

_But her brother remains. _

_He crooks his head like a zombie. His face is changing._

"_I'm gone," his whisper makes Pandora cringe._

_The transformation continues. His features morph. She draws back in horror. __**Marius**__. It's Marius. _

"_No…" she shudders in doubt, it can't be. He's dead. _

_He's not real, but there is no time for logic. _

_She swallows the dryness of fear, "Run! Marius go!" _

_Another crack fractures throughout the ground. _

_She tries to run for him but the stones are falling out from under her. She gasps. Blood is all over her hands, making her grip on the rocks slick. _

"_Marius!"_

_Her lungs fill with sulfuric air as she feels her feet give._

_Suddenly she is falling, falling forever. History is repeating itself, only this time there is no Capitol aircraft to catch her in a net and fly her to Victory. _

_Heat rises all around her, whipping her hair violently around her shoulders, chest, and face. _

_Her hands reach out as her body drops into the gorge. There is nothing to grab except air. _

_Her limbs tighten. Her back arches against the fire's roar. She is bracing for impact, she is bracing for death. _

_Just before darkness swallows her, she hears the boom of the cannon. Through the sliver of sky, from the depths of hell, Pandora catches sight of an image projected above. An image of her._

_A blood curdling screams echoes from her as she peers around and gasps. Everything is going away, the fire is turning blue and then black. _

_Shadows._

_Suddenly she is in the dark. _

_There is no fire, no lights, no sound. _

_Her breath trembles as she feels around, only to touch icy metal and glass. _

"_Marius? August?!" _

_Suddenly an unnatural and dim blue light turns on._

_Pandora is in a hospital gown. Wires cover her arms, head, and chest. In a fit she pants and gasps, ripping them off and climbing to her feet. _

_It takes her a moment to see through the blue murkiness, but slowly her eyes focus. She can see mirrors, mirrors all over. Her reflection is staring at her, glaring at her. She is frightened of herself. _

"_Marius?!"_

_Whispers._

_Her heart jumps. _

_She turns from left to right. There is nothing but mirrors. _

_Another set of whispers, this time louder. They are saying her name. _

_She takes in a breath and spins around._

_Near the end of the long room is a glass cylinder, a tank. Blue glowing liquid has filled it, simmering with bubbles. It's the source of the faint blue light. _

_There is something inside._

_Though fear swallows her she takes a step, and then another. As she approaches the form's shadow falls over her. _

_Someone is in the tank, suspended, his face hooked up to a mask._

_He seems to dangle lifelessly. _

_She creeps forward, afraid and sick. _

_Her hands press against the glass. _

_Her head cranes forward. _

_The glass is cold. The air smells sterile. _

_As the body glides around to face her, Pandora's eyes widen. She shakes her head. _

"_No…"_

_A wheeze ruptures in her chest. Her eyes fill with confusion and terror. _

_His eyes are closed, his body limp and naked, but there is no doubt who he is. His blond hair, the color of light, stares at her. _

"_Adric?" _

A scream roared from her sweating body. Her hair was sticking to her neck and shoulders.

At first dizziness overcame her. Her body painfully keeled forward. Her eyes weakly peered to the Capitol's lights.

It was a dream. A nightmare.

"Adric…" she repeated the name aloud, rubbing her head in confusion.

Everytime she awoke from one of her nightmares Pandora had the intense impression that she had been through a time warp, that her organs were liquefying and her bones breaking. It all in her head, but the pain still took a moment to repress.

When the white noise passed, a beeping pierced her ears. It had been going off for some time but she had only just noticed it.

Her eyes widened as she turned her face to the nightstand.

Though her breathes were still uneven she grabbed for the phone.

"Yes?"

"Pandora, are you there?"

"Finnick? It's the middle of the night."

"I'm sorry, I—please let me come up. I just need to see you. I—"

His words were all chopped up.

"Alright. Just hold on."

Tense sleep lingered in her feet and legs as she hung up the phone and crawled off her bed. The city lights bled into the loft, lighting her path as she made her way to the front door and pressed a single red button on the side.

Minutes passed, just enough time to allow her whole body to break into a sweat again.

Images of her nightmare gnawed at her, but before she can make any sense of them she heard steady knocks.

Her eyes squinted as light from the corridor shed in through the crack of the door.

Finnick looked exhausted. Dark circles lurked underneath his eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"I need to come in."

Pandora nodded, "Of course."

As he stepped into the darkness of her loft she could hear something strange from him. It sounded like he was whimpering.

"Finnick…"

"They're gone."

His words caused her to freeze. They reminded her of the nightmare.

"What?"

"I—I told them to stick together. I should have never said that."

Suddenly Pandora realized what was happening. _The Games_. Her hands searched through the darkness for him. When she finally reached his back she felt his whole body shudder.

"It's okay."

"I—I should have done better."

He sounded like he was hyperventilating.

"Look at me, Finnick."

But he kept his back to her. The sobs grew.

"Finnick!"

It wasn't hard for Pandora to force him around, he seemed to give in as soon as she tried. Although it was dark she could see his face, a face riddled with pain and tears.

"This isn't you're fault."

A cry, so child-like and innocent, echoed from him, "They're dead, Pandora!"

Pandora stared into his eyes. There was nothing for her to say. No way she could make this better.

Slowly she parted her lips, her arms wrapped around him, her head rested on his chest.

She could hear his heart racing.

"I'm here."

Immediately he answered her hug. He squeezed her so tight she couldn't breath for a second, but she didn't care.

"Don't leave me," he stammered, "I can't—I can't do this anymore."

She nestled closer to him, "You're tired, you haven't rested. You need sleep."

"No…it's not the sleeplessness. This place is poison!"

"Shh—" her hand gently reached for his hair. As she stroked his hair her other hand slowly soothingly rubbed his back, "You will get through this."

"I can't!"

"Finnick."

Her eyes lifted to him, a kaleidoscope of dim city lights vaguely illuminated their faces. She reached for his cheek, her eyes widened sincerely, "I believe in you."

He was trying to slow his breaths. Even in the dark she could see that his cheeks were flushed from crying.

"Say it," she continued, shaking him a little.

He rubbed his lips together in hesitation.

Gentler she eased away from him and softened her eyes, "Say it. You need to hear yourself say it."

She could hear his breath quiver.

"I will get through—through this."

She stepped closer, her doe eyes filled with care, "Go into the bedroom. I'll get you some water."

Even though she turned her back away from him, Pandora could hear his footsteps. She reached for a glass and quickly filled it up.

Her eyes briefly danced around the room before she looked to the bed. He was already curled up on his side. He was staring out of the large windows. Tears were still streaming down his face.

When she came into his view his green eyes lowered to the ground.

"Water," she whispered.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please, just have a little."

With a groan he reached for the glass. He took a few sips before placing it on the nightstand and returning his gaze to the windows.

Pandora dropped her eyes. She wondered if this was the way he reacted when Wisty and the male Tribute from District 4 had died. Wisty. Her eyes closed. She hadn't thought of the little girl from District 4 in a while. Guilt rose inside her as the memory of Petro snapping Wisty's neck surfaced.

By the time she crawled into the bed, Finnick had calmed down. He kept his back to her.

Outside fireworks were being set off. Celebratory ones.

Pandora stared at the ceiling, her head ached.

"Don't leave me," He suddenly whispered.

Slowly she moved her hand to his side, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

Though he didn't respond she knew he heard and understood.

"Panem has another Victor," the words sounded haunted.

She pursed her lips and winced. Another Victor, just another Tribute to add to the Capitol's collection.

"What District?"

He wrestled with the sheet for a moment, "1."

An hour past, or maybe it was mere minutes. Pandora was so wrapped up in her thoughts and nightmares that she could barely keep track.

"Pandora?" Her name sounded familiar on his tongue.

She remained quiet for a heartbeat.

"Pandora?"

Her eyes stayed on the ceiling, "What?"

"Are you okay?"

Inhibited pain and grief read all over her face, "I'm never okay. Not anymore."

"I mean now—you were sweating when I walked in, you looked scared."

"I was just worried about you," she quickly lied.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be ridiculous. I—that's what we do. We're here for each other. I need you as much as you need me."

His warm hand slid to her arm. He kept it there for a while before letting it drop back to the sheets.

A few minutes later she heard him murmur in his sleep. He repeated names she didn't know, yelping from time to time. Finnick had nightmares of his own.

Her fingers clawed the sheets, pulling them to her chin. She couldn't sleep, afraid that her mind would visit that strangely mirrored room with a giant tank.

Instantly the recollection of Adric unconsciously floating inside the cylinder made her shiver.

Everything else made sense, everything except that single image. She bit her lips and nervously thrashed around, but it was no use. Whatever sense was there to be made she couldn't see it.

Deep down she felt an unexpected need, a need to tell Adric of this horrifying nightmare.

Finnick awoke and left before the sun rose. Pandora heard him but pretended to be asleep. Once the front door shut her hands gripped the sheets, her body lurched forward.

Cold water splashed Pandora in the face. She couldn't worry about her life and her dreams. She had appointments to make.

She pulled on a pair of grey slacks on, along with a black sweater and some soft leather boots. Her reflection scowled at her as she tied her hair into a high ponytail.

The sun was well into the morning sky by the time she nodded to the eccentric concierge and pushed through the glass doors.

As usual the car was waiting for her.

"Was that Finnick Odair I saw earlier?" her driver, Demetri, asked as soon as she shut the door.

"What?"

"I thought I saw someone come out of the building that looked like him."

Her brow furrowed. How long had her driver been sitting out here?

"No—you must be mistaken."

"Right…my mistake."

The engine started. He gave her a doubtful look before pressing the accelerator. A look she pretended not to see.

When the familiar steel building came into view she straightened her back, preparing for the inevitable chores that loomed inside.

Caradoc was waiting for her in the lobby.

"Happy Hunger Games," he calmly greeted, smiling happily as he motioned her towards the elevators.

"Did you see the finale? It was a quite a show, not as good as yours though."

"Oh yea?" She vacantly responded, staring at the flashing numbers above.

"It looked like one of the District 4 pair was going to win, then District 1's male came swooping forward. Got them with a javelin. It was an excellent show."

Pandora's mind went back to the night before. Finnick's crying, his shouting, his pain. She caught her shaking breath, balling her hands into fists.

"I'm sure," she whispered.

"Pandora you look tired."

"I am tired."

"How many times have I told you to get rest?" Caradoc narrowed his eyes as the elevator doors opened and a swarm of stylists descended on them.

Her jaw clenched in agitation as hands covered her, pulled on her and guided her.

Caradoc placed her in a deep purple gown, encrusted with diamonds and emeralds. The chiffon fell in long waves to the floor. It was the latest design in his collection and in honor of that an advertisement was being constructed.

She posed and moved mindlessly. Vaguely listening to the director's orders from time to time. Tomorrow one of the images would be plastered to some anonymous building.

It wasn't long before she was back in her street clothes and heading to the car.

"That was fast," Demetri noted as she crawled into the leather seats.

"Thankfully, yes."

A low chuckle sounded from the front of the car, "Well, Miss Sullivan, I guess that's our cue."

With a jolt the car started out.

She angrily leaned into the seats.

"Demetri, Mironov is the other way."

"We're not going to Dr. Mironov's office, Miss."

"What?"

"The President has asked for your company. The doctor had to cancel."

Pandora froze. Her eyes widened in dismay. Of all the days in the world, Snow had to pick this one to request an audience with her. Deep seeded bitterness swept over her face and body, changing her melancholy disposition to outright infuriation.

The clock tolled three times as she leapt out of the car and up the marble steps. Out of memory she guided herself through the maze of elevators, hallways and rooms. It wasn't until she reached the private office that she stopped briefly.

"Pandora! You're early."

Her eyes turned to the blond haired woman with golden tattoos, today she was wearing an orange dress.

"Yea, well, is he in?"

"You can't just walk inside."

Pandora angrily stared at her, "Are you going to stop me?"

The woman turned to the man behind the desk, visibly shying away.

"Yea, right, that's what I thought."

Pandora didn't slow down as the doors automatically opened. There were no traces of fear or anxiety on her face, just a slight disdain.

Her eyes meandered over the crimson wallpaper and black floors. The sickly sweet smell of Snow reached her nose before she arrived the main office.

He was talking to a military official, a highly decorated military official.

"You wanted to see me," she callously interrupted, glancing between Snow and the anonymous Officer. Something was strangely familiar about the man, something in his bone structure—his high cheekbones.

"Pandora, I didn't know you were here. Why don't you just wait outside?"

"No."

The military official narrowed his eyes indignantly. He glared at her so hatefully.

Suddenly a laugh escaped Snow. He continued to giggle, "Well, alright. Trajan, we can continue with our discussion some other time."

Trajan…why did that name sound so familiar? Pandora tried to search her thoughts.

"Of course, sir," he bowed his head as he took Snow's hand and shook it, "It would be an honor."

"Good. Pandora—come forward."

He snapped the order so quickly she wanted to stay in place, but slowly she took her steps.

"This is General Trajan Antonius Pedersen."

Instantly something caught in her throat. Her eyes changed from cold to shocked.

"I believe you know his son, Officer Adric Pedersen."

She stared up at the middle age General as he passed. Her stomach suddenly felt like it was in knots.

"Yes," her eyes dropped, "I know Adric."

Instead of saying hello the man glared at her for a moment. Adric had his father's high cheekbones but on Trajan they looked frightening. His eyes were dully grey and his hair was white. She wondered if it was once brilliantly blond, like Adric's.

"It's impolite to interrupt conversations," his voice was domineering.

She was trying to remind herself to stay strong, to seem apathetic, but it was hard.

"Yes," her eyes shifted to Snow, "I suppose it is."

He judgingly eyed her from top to bottom, "Hmm," he murmured.

It wasn't until she heard the door shut that she realized she hadn't been breathing. Her lungs ached as fresh air was sucked in.

"Nice fellow, and a wonderful military leader," Snow chimed in.

Suddenly her purpose came back to her. She staggered towards his desk, drunk off of exhaustion and shock.

"I'm sure you'll see more of him."

Her lips parted, it sounded like a threat.

"What did you want?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Sit."

She grimaced before grabbing one of the chairs and settling down.

"So?"

"Not now," Snow replied, "I'm waiting for someone else."

This struck a chord with Pandora, "Who?"

The phone on his desk suddenly rang. A smile formed on his lips as he held up a finger and answered.

"Yes?...Good…Yes, show him in."

His snake eyes darted to her as the doors down the corridor opened. She wanted to look back but couldn't find the courage.

"That will be the who, right now."

Steady footsteps were approaching. Familiar and rhythmic. She raised her fingers to the side of her face as the figure moved closer.

"Pandora?"

Her mouth gaped open. Her eyes looked up in surprise.

"Finnick?"

President Snow remained silent, as if he were taking in their mutual astonishment. After a whisper of time he opened his desk and pulled several files out.

"What is this?!" Pandora exclaimed.

Snow licked his finger before leafing through the pages of the file. The gesture made Pandora feel queasy. His swollen lips seemed to twitch for a moment.

"You can sit, Mr. Odair."

Finnick side glanced Pandora. His fingers nervously searched for the armrest of the chair. As he sat down he turned his face to the floor.

"You two are friends, hm?"

"Yes," Finnick's response was quick and steady.

"I can see that."

Snow's eyes were still on the file, but as he spoke he slowly placed a few of the photographs on the table. Some were from District 4, Pandora already knew about those, but then there were others. Pictures of them from the Sculpture Gardens, from the photo shoots they had done together, from side streets and roads.

She could feel her breathing become shallower. She wanted to look at Finnick but couldn't bring herself to.

"Why are you showing us theses? To intimidate us?" her words were hostile.

Finnick peered to her in shock.

Snow only smiled, "I called you both in here today to discuss a deal."

"A deal implies something on both ends," Pandora countered.

"Yes, yes it does."

Silence fell. She couldn't help wondering what the next thing to slip from Snow's forked tongue would be. Truths laced with lies, that was all they ever were.

"I'm not the only one aware of your friendship, obviously you know about the Capitol Press. They've taken to putting you in their tabloids every chance they get."

Finnick leaned back timidly. Realization was hitting him faster than Pandora. She just glared.

"I think it's rather refreshing, no? To see two Victors so close, so bonded. I hear there are rumors going around the Capitol. Rumors of you two being together—"

"They're only rumors," Pandora growled.

"Yes, well. That's what we need to discuss. I would like you to verify the rumors."

"What?" She parted her lips.

Finnick dropped his eyes.

"It doesn't have to verbally, in fact, I would prefer that you would do more subtly, that way it's more realistic. But of course it doesn't matter how, I just want it done."

"Why would you want us to pretend that we are a couple?"

"The Capitol needs a bright light on their horizon. It's perfect."

Finnick's green eyes squinted, "You just got another Victor last night."

"So?"

Finnick tilted his head away, placing his hand on the side of his head.

That's when Pandora cut back in, "You said this was mutual. If we do this then what do we get?"

"The offer is not for a we, it's for only one of you," Snow's eyes moved to Finnick, "For you, Mr. Odair."

In confusion Pandora twitched her eyes to Finnick.

"What do you mean _me_?"

"Why is the offer only for Finnick?" She hesitated, hating what she was about to say, "What about me?"

The President cupped his hands on his desk, "When you hear the offer you might just agree to the deal, Pandora."

"Oh yea?"

"Yes."

Snow looked back to Finnick.

"If you do this, if both of you pretend, you will no longer have to do the other job I had assigned you."

Finnick's eyes lit up to this offer. He straightened his back and lowered his hand.

"Other job?" Pandora abruptly asked.

"Would you like to tell her, Mr. Odair?"

She could see Finnick shift away. He was trying to look as far away from her as possible. Suddenly he was shamefully blushing.

"I didn't think so. Well I guess that's my job then—Mr. Odair was sleeping with several women of the Capitol. He was in high demand. Very high demand. As you can see he performs the role of a playboy rather well. Don't you, Mr. Odair?"

Pandora's eyes widened. She felt like she was going to throw up. Strange emotions started surfacing. She tried not to look at Finnick but her gaze slowly landed on him.

"Now, as long as you both pretend, Mr. Odair will not need to concern himself with this other job."

Her eyes anxiously moved to the windows. _Of course_, she thought. Appointments. That's what Finnick had called them. Whenever he needed to go he would say he had one. Never in Pandora's wildest imaginations did she think that this is what those appointments entailed.

A single instinct took hold of her. The instinct of protectiveness.

"I'll do it," she suddenly said, standing to her feet, "We'll do it."

"Pandora—" Finnick jumped to his feet as well, he gave her a worried look before leaning in and whispering, "You don't need to do this."

Her eyes lingered on his. Her face hardened. How could she not do this for Finnick? President Snow had been traded him around like a prostitute. Who knows how long this was going on? If all she had to do to save Finnick was to feign a romantic relationship with him, then she'd do it.

"Finnick, I said yes."

Snow shifted his eyes between them, "Wonderful. Of course, Mr. Odair this does mean you can't go back to District 4 as much as you used to."

Finnick was still staring at Pandora. He wanted her to reject the offer, but deep down he felt some relief. His fingers nervously combed through his auburn hair.

"Alright—" he agreed, "Alright, we'll do it."

The dim office light reflected in President Snow's eyes. He was sickeningly pleased.

Pandora felt raw and frightened. Her reflex was to hold Finnick's hand, to show him that she was there for him, but she couldn't bring herself to, not in front of Snow. Her deep brown eyes turned to the windows. Cold heat rose in her heart.

For the first time since her arrival into the Capitol, President Snow was making his move for more control over her life. This was only the first move in a whole scheme of strategies and manipulations. Her lips trembled slightly, she felt helpless.

_There's nothing worse_, Pandora quickly thought, _than seeing your life fall apart before your eyes and being powerless to stop it_.

When her eyes twitched back to Snow's face, she tilted her head up and stared down at him. He smiled coldly, calculatingly. She replied with an arched eyebrow. Someday, whether soon or years from now, Pandora promised herself she would see this man drained of life, see him hung like the animal he was.


	15. Energy Corridor

_Energy Corridor_

Her hair was still damp from the shower when she walked to the gold trimmed mirror and clenched her jaw. Lavender fatigue lingered under her brown eyes, but it was nothing compared the exhaustion she felt inside.

Tonight would be the first time Finnick and Pandora would make their appearance under the guise of being a couple. She grimaced at the thought of more lies filling her insides with deceit.

Her brain felt shredded. Nervous turmoil was harshly churning in her stomach and throat. All day Pandora felt like she was on the brink of an illness that never fully surfaced. She had to continuously remind herself that this fabrication was something she had to do, not only for her own security but her friend's. Secretly though…and shamefully…she wished she had never agreed to the deal.

Everything had changed that day in President Snow's office. After Pandora had found out about what Finnick had been doing during his "appointments" he didn't bother stopping by, or even calling.

It had been nearly two weeks since that meeting, weeks of not seeing Finnick.

Her eyes narrowed at her reflection. That was why she felt exhaustion, more than physical it was mental. Without seeing Finnick she felt detached and cold. Her body felt foreign, her actions someone else's.

When she finally moved from her bathroom to the hall she dropped her eyes to the floor.

_It wouldn't be the same_, she told herself, _don't expect it to ever be the same_.

Fabric moved along the tips of her fingers as she surveyed her closet.

"The outfit is crucial, Pandora," Caradoc had told her, "I don't want you making a public appearance wearing a sack. Just dress for the setting…"

She nibbled on her lip.

Energy Corridor.

Her mind went back to her first night in the Capitol. She recalled the way the neon buzzed and glowed, the way the music blared, the chorus of young crowds swarming. That was the location. It felt cruel in a way, to make them do their first appearance together in such a crowded place, but of course that was the idea. More people meant more chances that Finnick and Pandora would be noticed together.

After moment of hesitation she reached for a dress and pair of boots.

Her hands struggled to reach the zipper in the back as she wiggled the thick fabric down her body.

It was a tight black mini dress with neon green trimming on the neckline, cap sleeves, and bottom hem. The end fell just to her mid thigh.

The boots Pandora chose were also black. The shaft of the boots ended just below her knees. From the faded leather and details the pair of boots had a grunge edge to them.

Just before leaving she did her makeup, coating the similar neon green of her dress trimming to her eyelids. She left her hair down, haphazardly letting it fall to it natural placement around her face—a deep side part.

Suddenly a loud beeping echoed throughout the loft, grabbing her attention.

She peered to the windows as she made her way to the entrance. It was well into night.

With a straight face she pressed the panel and watched as Yuri, the concierge, appeared on the screen.

"Yes?"

"Miss Sullivan! Good evening. The car is here for you."

Panic stung her throat.

"I'll be down, " she dryly rasped, immediately shutting the screen off and turning around.

Pandora's chest was pounding so hard she thought she might be having a heart attack. A few more paces and she would be in the lobby.

The glass doors were automatically and efficiently rotating. Yuri gave her an aggravating grin as she allowed herself to be swept up in the churning doors that quickly spewed her out onto the sidewalk.

Her eyes lifted swiftly and searchingly.

Near the walkway's edge she could see the car. Steam puffed from the exhaust pipe into the dwindling spring air. Although she couldn't see past the tinted windows, she knew exactly who was waiting inside.

Finnick.

She was trying her best to keep calm but the closer she moved towards the car the more her muscles tightened in dread. The photographers, the press—she knew they would all be there, waiting to get pictures of them together.

Only a few more steps were left when the car door abruptly opened.

She stopped, parting her lips as Finnick leaned out. He was wearing a simply styled white shirt and black trousers.

"Hello," she whispered, slowly slipping into the car and shutting the door.

Finnick didn't smile. Pandora figured he was saving that for their larger than life theater performance that was about to take place.

"Hi," he responded distantly.

They sat in silence for several minutes. It was obvious Finnick was ashamed of the information Pandora had been given by President Snow. He was afraid she would think of him differently now, afraid that she would like him less. His gaze awkwardly stayed on the windows. She didn't know how they were going to get through the night like this. There was so much unsaid between them. The air felt heavy, stifling and heavy.

"So—what's the plan?" she finally managed.

A weighted pause filled the car.

"What do you mean?"

"How are we going to—"

"Don't worry about that, let's just play this by ear."

She dropped her eyes. He couldn't even look at her.

"I haven't heard from you since—"

He turned his face to the front and cleared his throat, "I've been busy."

"Oh…right…I see."

More silence. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Beyond the windows the first glimpses of Energy Corridor were emerging. The bass of music was starting to hum throughout the car. Neon flashed across the glass onto their faces. It was obvious which club they were heading towards. Her eyes quickly focused in on the bright cobalt neon.

A long line was waiting outside, people in various outfits and decorations. Some already had glasses in their hands, other were smoking cigarettes that glimmered with strange colors.

As she continued to stare she could feel a familiar ball form in her throat.

Her fingers clawed at the seat when the car came to a full stop.

"Alright," Finnick leaned into her. He touched her hand, instantly she felt a warm chill travel to her neck, "You stay here. I'll come around and get you."

"Okay…"

She clenched her jaw one final time, preparing herself for the night. Statically her lips stretched into the most charming grin she could fake.

The door opened. When she looked up, Finnick was also smiling, his hand was extended to her.

She quickly took it, stepping out. Her body curled instinctively into him.

"Ready?" he whispered.

Her eyes glanced over the people, her ears listened to the music. Quietly she slipped her hand into his and nodded.

The line of people saw them coming before they had gotten out of the car. They had just stepped onto the curb when the shouting began.

"Hey! That's Pandora Sullivan!"

"That's Finnick Odair!"

Some grabbed for anything they had on them to get pictures, others simply gawked.

Though Pandora kept a sarcastic smile on her lips, her eyebrow arched with an intimidating edge. It was a look Pandora Sullivan had become famous for in the Capitol.

Finnick nodded to the bouncer as they approached, he looked just as shocked as the crowd waiting outside.

The bouncer stared at them for a few seconds. He was star struck, but then his eyes frantically blinked. Suddenly he remembered himself. His hands clumsily grabbed for the rope as he pushed the other people back.

"Thanks," Finnick charmingly crooned, patting the man on his shoulder.

Pandora kept her hand in Finnick's as they descended a set of small black stairs. They were sinking into a strange darkness of dancing lights and music. Fast rhythmic songs were shrieking. The acrid smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol swam in the air.

Pandora wondered if they looked like a couple, something told her holding hands wouldn't be enough to verify the false rumors. President Snow had made it clear that he wanted immediate result, if they failed who knew what would happen. She corner-eyed Finnick as they made their way into the main dance area. It had to be believable, if anything ever happened to Finnick because she wasn't strong enough to help him she would never forgive herself.

The main area was packed. It was hard to see where one body started and another ended. The people seemed to all be moving as one conglomerate mass, swaying and jumping to the music.

"Let's get drinks."

Her eyes widened as she felt Finnick pull her through the crowd.

Her feet stumbled through the raving darkness until the bar came into view. Luckily there was a big enough space for both of them to wiggle into. They didn't have to wait long for assistance, especially when the bartender noticed who they were.

Finnick made the orders. Pandora could barely hear what he said but her eyes hesitantly dropped when the drinks were poured in front of them. It was a clear liquid in a tiny glass.

"What is this?!" She yelled through the music.

Finnick shrugged and shook his head, "Don't think about it."

The alcohol had just touched her lips when she saw Finnick chug the entire drink. He exhaled deeply and furrowed her brow when he finished.

Her eyes widened in shock, "You must be thirsty…"

He glanced at her and smirked. Slowly his hand rose to her face and brushed against her cheek. He was pretending but it didn't stop the blushing.

"Don't be so good, live a little," he quipped with a wink as he motioned to her glass.

Her eyebrow rose. She hesitated for a minute before tipping the glassing and chugging. Her eyes began to water. It wasn't the vilest thing she had ever tasted but it was close. It burnt her throat and bitterly singed her mouth.

By the time she had finished her head felt light and her stomach hot.

"Pandora," he leaned close to her, his hand traveled to her side, "I didn't know you had that in you!"

Finnick was better at this. He was flirting with her and all she could do was stiffly react. She had to keep up. It had to be believable.

"Well—" her hand moved to his chest, flirtatiously she peered into his eyes and smiled, "You're hard to keep up with."

There was no way they could know that people were noticing all this, Finnick and Pandora could only hope that they were. When she finally looked away and dropped her hand she coyly glanced to the various bottles behind the counter.

"Another?"

Finnick laughed, his hand raised to the bartender, "Why not…"

They guzzled down another two glasses each before moving away from the bar. Her cheeks were flushed from the drinks, her heart was racing. Suddenly the music sounded louder than before.

They were heading towards the dance floor. Her dewy lips mashed together as they wove their way through people. It was surprising to her that no one approached them or tried to get their autographs. The only way she could make sense of it was that in the half-darkness no one cared…or noticed.

Finnick spun her around and pulled her into an embrace once they found a clearing. She was pressed against him as they began to dance.

The lights were shining, the room was spinning.

Slowly her prior fears of awkwardness and pressure dissolved. Somehow the unsaid worries and problems faded into the backdrop of their minds. They playfully danced, catching a few looks when people realized who they were.

"You're a good dancer," Finnick whispered to her, "I had no idea."

She pressed her face into his neck, "Well, you are a terrible one."

Instantly he laughed, it was loud but the music seemed to drown it out.

"You look happy…" the alcohol was slowing her words, "Must be all the drinks."

His smile was brief before it dropped. She could feel him pull away for a minute.

"I'm sorry for bringing you into this, Pandora."

Suddenly she remembered why they were there. Her eyes glanced around, "No. It's fine. Don't feel that way."

"I know what you must think…"

Finally he had said it. He was voicing his fears. After weeks of not speaking to him she felt overwhelmed. His shame was so understandable, so close to how Pandora felt, that there was no way she could let him go on thinking that she was judging him. She forgot about the crowds, the music…she forgot about everything but Finnick.

Her eyes softened, "I don't think less of you. You had no choice."

Finnick looked away for a beat.

"Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I was never reaped for the arena. Sometimes I daydream about it," he whispered in her ear.

To everyone around them it looked like they were flirtatiously dancing, but the seriousness in Finnick's words was far from playful.

"I wonder if life would be better."

Her hand moved to the back of his neck, her eyes rose to him, "I would have never known you."

He half smiled. Light danced across his face.

"Maybe it would have been better that way."

She parted her lips with sad eyes, "I would be lost right now if it wasn't for you. I don't care about this silly charade. I don't care about what you've done in the past, Finnick. I'm your friend. All I care about is you."

Something heavy filled her chest. Something she had never felt before.

At first he seemed shocked. He wasn't used to Pandora being sentimental, it wasn't in her nature to be overtly verbal with affection.

"Yea…" he whispered under the music, "I think I know what you mean."

She was starting to blush. Her eyes lowered, she was dizzy from the alcohol, "I—I think all these drinks are getting to me."

"You want fresh air?"

Her hand moved to her stomach, "Yea. Let's get out of here."

She knew something was going on before they reached the exit. She glanced to Finnick as they took the last step. Beyond the swinging door to the outside, a small group had gathered, along with photographers. Apparently the news of them being out had traveled fast.

Pandora felt lucky that the alcohol had dulled her shock and fear, otherwise she would have cowered away. But as the cameras started flashing she casually placed her arm around Finnick's waist and confidently stepped forward.

The car was waiting nearby. All they had to do was push through the mob.

Hands grabbed at them. A few times she thought she as going to drown in the crowd, but her hand stayed firmly around Finnick.

Photographers were following them, their cameras still flashing.

Everyone was screaming and shouting. The world was spinning in Pandora's mind.

The driver honked his horn, trying to warn the horde not to get too close to the car. Her fingers pulled her mini dress down as she let Finnick help her into the car.

She was still in the photographers' view.

Pandora's eyes lifted to him. He wasn't shutting the door. He was staring at her.

She parted her lips. The press was taking pictures of them, shouting at them so that they'd look.

There was something behind his eyes, some strange emotion she couldn't identify.

His lips parted as he leaned down, inching closer and closer to her face. Before she could understand was about to happen Finnick's lips were against hers.

Screams broke out in the crowd, suddenly the flashing cameras seemed more excited and spurred.

He gently held her lips in his, planting smaller kiss within that single one. She could have sworn his lips tasted like the ocean. If her head wasn't whirling before, it was now.

The kiss lasted only seconds but it felt like several eternities.

When he finally released her she slumped back in the car and peered at the roaring audience. They were intoxicated with this confirmation of rumors, intoxicated by the public display that had just happened.

Pandora arched her eyebrow, pulling the door shut with a slam. She had to catch her breath.

The theater curtains crashed together. The applause of the spectators clamored on and on. A performance well down.

As the car started forward she peered to Finnick. Her lips felt hot, her cheeks flushed. He slowly returned her gaze. In the dim light his green eyes glimmered wildly. She took a sharp breath and urgently looked away. Even though she could feel Finnick's eyes on her she didn't look back at him.

Uneasily Pandora stared out the window. Her lips pressed together.

She felt breathless and confused. In the depths of her soul, butterflies whirled and danced.


	16. The Night Moves

_The Night Moves_

"Sit up more."

Pandora craned her face to the side and arched her back. The bright stage lights spilled across the floating platform. A sheen of black loomed in the backdrop, contrasting with her fair skin. Long strands of her dark hair cascaded past her shoulders as she stretched her legs out and parted her lips.

She was naked apart from an array of black diamonds the designers had decorated her body with.

A quick flash made her smoky eyes narrow.

"Part your lips more, lean forward….yes…now a little over…perfect!"

It was hard to concentrate on the director's words with everything that had been going on. Several weeks had passed since the night at Energy Corridor. Finnick's kiss lingered on her lips. Although they had done many other appearances since that night, he had only kissed her once and only so that the press could document it.

Within a few short hours after that first appearance, the Capitol had exploded with excitement and gossip. Finnick and Pandora were the talk of the town. She cringed at the thought of her family hearing about this, her only comfort was that the rumors wouldn't travel to District 7. It was meager and false comfort.

A confusing relationship blossomed between Finnick and Pandora after that night. A complicated relationship. In public the two acted like a couple, constantly near each other, laughing, and smiling. But in private…in private they remained distant and friendly. Pandora had her own burdens, and Finnick his. Fiction and truth was becoming muddled, nothing seemed real anymore. In this whole game that they had signed up for Pandora never fully grasped how much strain it would add to their friendship. She longed for the night on the beach, when Finnick had first called her his friend. But change was coming, constantly and unnervingly coming…all she could do was brave the stormy waters, even if that meant she would be swept away into the open and deadly sea.

Finnick had become increasingly silent in their private meetings. It was as if he wanted to speak but couldn't quite figure out how. Pandora wished she could get to the root of the issue, but truthfully she was afraid of what might be uncovered if she did. Afraid she might lose him.

They were together but separate. They were drained from pretending.

Even now, covered in only diamonds and smoky makeup Pandora could barely let herself breath. Every inhale felt like needles in her lungs.

Just as the camera flashed for the last time a creaking shudder reverberated through the studio. A slice of stale light fell into the room as the door opened. It was hard for her to catch a glimpse of the person, the stage lights were so blinding.

Her gaze landed on Caradoc' silhouette. He was looking towards the doors as well. She rubbed her lips together nervously as she watched Caradoc dart towards them.

"Fantastic!" The director shouted, "You're free to go, Miss Sullivan!"

Her eyes slyly shifted from the floor to the edge of the stage before she found her footing and tiptoed to the steps where assistants were waiting with a robe in hand.

"Thanks," she whispered, feeling the satin skim across her skin as she tied the robe.

She had only taken a few steps before Caradoc came into view, "You have a visitor."

She brushed her hair out of her face and arched her eyebrow. Dark spots were still blocking her vision.

"Who?"

"A solider—an officer. He says his name is Adric Pedersen."

Her eyes widened. Tension tightened her jaw. When she stepped onto the cold floor her teeth uncontrollably chattered.

Her eyes lifted just as she passed the photography equipment. Sure enough, Adric was standing near the doors. Surprisingly he wasn't wearing his uniform. He was in civilian clothing. Brown trousers and a blue shirt, but his short blond hair was still neatly parted to the side.

His eyes brightened when she approach.

"What are you doing here?" She quickly asked.

"So this is where the magic happens?"

"I don't know if you'd call it magic."

His smile broke, "Sorry about interrupting."

Her fingers fumbled with the sash of her robe, "It was finished…it doesn't matter," she whispered back.

A worker gave them a long stare as he passed. Adric's fading smile briefly faltered as he observed the worker from top to bottom. Pandora could see in his eyes that he was assessing the worker, more than likely a habit he developed from the military.

"Can we talk outside?"

"Caradoc won't like that."

"I can take care of him."

She crossed her arms, "Yea, right…I'm sure you can."

"Well?"

"Fine, but I only have a few minutes."

He pushed the door open, letting her go first before following.

The corridor was windowless and grey, with buzzing helium lights that slightly swung overhead in response to some phantom wind blowing through the narrow way.

"What is it?" Pandora finally spat out with a note of acid in her words.

His dark eyes moved to her face in surprise. He gave his shadow a glance before clearing his throat, "Look, I don't want to take up all your time—" from his pocket he pulled out an envelope, "—this is for you."

She arched her eyebrow. Judgingly her gaze shifted from the envelope to Adric, "You're writing me letters now?"

"No—" despite his rather reserved expression, Pandora could hear a hint of annoyance in his voice, "It's an invitation."

The paper was thick and heavy when she snatched it away from him. She handled it with care, eyeing her name in gold cursive letters scribbled onto the front.

"It's for the Military Ball—for tonight. I realize it's short notice but I couldn't—"

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"I'm inviting you. I get a medal tonight, several other officers, soldiers, and peacekeepers do too of course…but anyways, the Capitol honors us with a ball every year."

Pandora narrowed her eyes and took a step back. She looked insulted. A dark laugh escaped her, "What makes you think I'd be interested in that?"

"I just thought—"

"You just thought because I've been in the Capitol for a few months I'd want to support your pathetic display of military oppression? Real perceptive of you, Adric."

He was pursing his lips, restraining himself. Of course he could arrest Pandora, lock her up for insubordination, but she knew that would never happen. She was still important to President Snow, which meant that within reason she was untouchable. It was the only way she could rationalize Snow's tolerance for her sharp tongue and cold demeanor.

"Pandora, I'm just being nice."

"And what? You actually thought I'd want to go with you?"

His eyebrows rose to this, suddenly he laughed, "Of course not. You're with Finnick Odair if I'm not mistaken. "

She froze in shock, "Yes—I am."

"I do read the news, you know. Plus don't flatter yourself, kid…you're not my type."

Suddenly it occurred to Pandora that Adric had no idea about the deal, no idea that it was just a theater performance of a romance. Just another tool to feed the masses lies and sugarcoated entertainment.

She dropped her eyes to the ground, trying to ease herself away from her stirring thoughts.

"To tell you the truth I wasn't surprised when I heard about you two," he quickly added.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

For some reason his statement put her on the defense.

"It means what it sounds like. I'm not ridiculing you. You two look good together, it makes sense," he paused with thought, looking away abruptly, "_You've both been through the same thing_."

Her lips parted awkwardly. Again she was stunned. Adric's observant and surface shattering behavior was sometimes unsettling, but it wasn't just his words that left her speechless, it was the sincerity behind them. He believed what he was saying.

Pandora blinked her eyes coldly, trying to repress any humanizing thoughts about Adric. When she looked at him again her eyes had hardened.

"I don't even know if I'm suppose to go this stupid ball."

"I asked. Caradoc knows…since you seem so hell bent on pleasing him."

Her jaw clenched at his jab, "Yea right. Of course you did."

"Obviously you can bring Finnick. The invitation is for both of you. I had his delivered to him. President Snow thought it was a good idea, at least that's what my father said."

He gave her a brief once over before turning half way around and walking away.

"See you around," he added quietly.

Her eyes followed him.

"Adric!" she stared at him skeptically when he turned back around, "Why did you go to the trouble? It's not like it matters."

He seemed to think about this question for a while. His eyes danced around the hallway, finally landing her.

"You're part of the Capitol now, I thought—I thought it was appropriate."

His words made her cringe. The envelope in her hand crinkled harshly as she glared at him.

"You know we're not friends, Adric? You realize that, right?"

He furrowed his brow, abruptly letting out a toughened laugh before nodding, "Yea—" he was struggling for a response, "Well if you want to come, just come."

Pandora's words stuck in her throat before she could gather the thoughts for a response. She reached out to stop him but he was too fast. Before she knew it he was down the corridor and around the corner.

Her hand pressed against the side of her face. She felt foolish and cruel. Adric had promised Pandora that he would prove himself. He promised this when he escorted her from District 7 to the Capitol a few short months ago. When he told her she was now part of the Capitol she knew, deep down, it wasn't an insult. How could that be an insult to him? Adric was a loyal member of the Capitol. A part of her wanted to believe his sincerity and dedication, but Pandora couldn't forget about the past. The serum, Marius, the arena, and finally her own isolation from her District and family.

None of these were caused by Adric, and yet all of them were.

Her teeth violently nipped at her bottom lip.

"Damn it," she breathlessly whispered to herself.

Her lips pursed as she gave the studio door a kick and rushed past the stylists to her dressing room.

By the time she was out of her makeup and back into her normal clothing, she was ready to sleep.

Her eyes angrily peered to the sunny sky on the drive to her apartment. She just wanted it all to stop. She wanted to freeze time. It felt like everything was becoming more and more complicated. Finnick once told her that she can bend but she'd never break. Always Pandora had doubted this compliment, but now more than ever she felt like she was moving closer and closer to the cliff. A cliff with nothing beyond it but guilt, fear, and loneliness. In a way the thought gave her peace…to accept everything, to be swallowed by her own sins. Deep down she knew this was something she deserved. Deep down she wanted it to happen.

For as much hate she had placed on the Capitol and Snow, she hated herself even more. It was the repressing that was eating away at her. Corrosive repression, denial, and self-loathing.

She pushed past her apartment door and eyed the sofa. With a tired moan and sigh she sank into the cushions.

If it could just all stop for a moment, maybe she could be better, do better.

A nearby clock ticked and tocked a lullaby to her. She felt her legs relax, then her arms. Soon her eyes felt heavy.

Her last thought before falling asleep was a single phrase…so simple, and yet obscure and taunting…a single phrase, two syllables filled with remorse: _I wish_.

Slowly her eyes closed, darkness covered her.

"Pandora!"

She grumbled something in her sleep. Someone was shaking her.

"Wake up!"

Angrily she came to. Her eyes sluggishly opened. A mohawk and two small eyes were staring back at her.

"Caradoc?...Where am I?"

She peered around with confusion, there were more people walking through the room. It was night.

"Your apartment, obviously."

"What are you doing here?" sleep clung close to her words and eyes.

"The Military Ball—I'm here to get you ready, of course."

Suddenly she sat up. Her hands reached for the side of her face while her eyes twitched around, "What? I never agreed to go to that."

"You didn't have to. I was informed to come here, to fix you up. Luckily I just finished my latest gown, it's going to be stunning on you. "

"Who may I ask informed you to do this?"

He didn't need to answer the question, Pandora knew the answer. President Snow.

Her heart sank as Caradoc grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the bathroom. No doubt Finnick was undergoing similar treatment. The master puppeteer was busy at work making sure his dolls were painted.

Her chest felt heavy. Her eyes filled with contempt.

"Hurry, we only have an hour to get her outfit, makeup, and hair perfect. This is her first big function since her Victory Tour! No mistakes, you hear me!?" Caradoc barked at the styling team.

The team nodded swiftly with a hint of fear in their eyes.

After all the hustle and bustle Pandora was escorted downstairs. They were in the elevator when Caradoc finally managed to catch his breath and speak.

"Mr. Odair should be waiting outside," he pulled out a gold pocket watch and noted the time, "We're late."

Pandora remained silent. The mentioning of Finnick seemed to be the only silver lining of the night, everything else would be a living hell.

Her dress rustled as she moved towards the doors and peered out. Finnick's car was waiting outside.

Suddenly her hands were sweaty.

Pandora nervously looked around the street, hoping that there was no one there to see her in the dress and makeup. When the coast was clear she started moving.

Her brain registered the door opening and her feet scrambling to climb into the car, but it wasn't until she heard Finnick's voice that she remembered where they were going.

"You look nice."

Caradoc had fastened her into a haltered gown the color of a dusty rose. Its mermaid silhouette clung to her chest, stomach, and hips, slowly billowing out as it came closer to the floor. Diamonds lined the plunging neckline and twinkled in her ears. Her cheeks and eyes had been dusted with the same pink color as her dress and her hair had been left down with a deep part and long sleek waves.

Pandora glanced to him. He was wearing a suit with a long black tie. His hair was parted to the side. She had never seen him look so dressed up.

Her lips met in a whistle as she playfully dusted his suit jacket off, "Look at you."

He recoiled at her touch. Apprehension seeped from every inch of him.

"Yes, it's amazing the things that can be done when the Capitol put their minds to it."

"I feel like I can't breath," Pandora whispered back, pressing her hand against her stomach, "This dress is sucking the air out of me."

"Well, just as long as you don't make me look bad."

Through the darkness she smiled and shook her head, "Please…have we met?"

This lighthearted banter continued for only a few more moments. The closer they got to the President's mansion, the less they spoke. The progression wasn't fully done until they had entered the City Circle and made a sharp left turn, only then did Finnick turn his face to the windows and nervously sigh.

Though Pandora wasn't looking at him she could feel tension ooze off of Finnick. Something in the air was different tonight, something about him had changed.

The first signs of the ball were the increasing amounts of soldiers, politicians, and military officials. All were in their formal military garb or suits.

"Pandora…"

She peered through the darkness of the car to Finnick. He looked worried. His green eyes were wildly staring ahead.

"What is it, Finnick?"

"I need to tell you something…it's—"

"Here we are!" The driver suddenly interrupted.

The car rolled to a stop. Finnick drew back uncomfortably.

"Finnick? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, it's just—" his eyes moved to the mansion, "We should get out there."

"Are you sure?"

"Yea, let's get this over this…"

Press lined the white carpet leading to marble steps. But Pandora's attention was still on Finnick. She furrowed her brow, wondering why he couldn't look her in the eyes, why there was a note of urgency in his voice.

"We can wait here for a minute, if it's something that you need to tell me."

"No, I—" he let out a laugh, awkwardly staring at his hands, "It can wait."

"Okay…" she brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, unsure it he meant what he was saying, "Alright."

Questions clouded her anxiety, but it was hard to focus on anything. To Pandora it felt like everything was happening so fast. She had just worked up the nerve to insist he tell her what was going on when she heard the door open.

Finnick was outside in a matter of seconds. Cameras began flashing.

Inwardly she reminded herself to put on the face of the happy romantic, to huddle close to Finnick. Her fingers trembled, deception and pretense were her strong suits but it was hard for her to play the hopeless romantic, or maybe it was hard because it was Finnick.

Her breath quaked as she mulled over Finnick's words

_What was it that he needed to tell her?_

A few seconds went by before he was opening her door. As she stepped out twice as many lights began flashing. The bright emissions dazzled her, though she becoming used to the publicity, the spotlight was still a scary place.

Instantly Finnick took her hand, guiding her to the white carpet.

Violin's music murmured through the crowd, the farther they strode down the long strip of white, the more obvious something became to Pandora. Her eyes lifted in thought. Unlike the Capitol events she had attended involving the Hunger Games, this was more austere, much more subtly elegant. Press was allowed at the front, but only there. Not even Caesar Flickerman was there to interview the people in attendance.

It was a party for the elite. The realization of his made her heart frost over in terror, made her forget about Finnick's mysterious behavior.

She craned her neck around in amazement as they past the threshold and entered the lion's den. Pandora had been to the President's Mansion for her Victory Tour but somehow it looked completely different.

The color scheme was white, black and gold. All around ink black banners with the gold Capitol crest billowed. Several military officials they passed disdainfully stared at Finnick and Pandora, while many of the politicians smiled.

The core of the elite caste was surrounding Pandora, a fact that made her feel uneasy and sick. It dawned on her immediately how out of place she truly was.

"Miss Sullivan!?"

Her eyes widened as she identified the voice.

"Is that you?!"

Artorius Flemming was already drunk. He chuckled to himself wildly. His blue curls bounced as he darted across the marble floor.

"Mr Flemming—How are you?"

"Splendid! Would you care for a drink?"

Pandora furrowed her brow as he leaned close to her face, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

With a smile Finnick moved towards her and quietly whispered, "You're on your own with this one," into her ear.

"Wait! Finnick…"

She gritted her teeth. He had stealthily disappeared. Her eyes anxiously looked back to Artorius Flemming.

"Ha! I don't think I've seen any boy run faster than that!"

She tried to laugh with him but she sounded bewildered. Flemming shuffled closer to her and glanced at her dress.

"You look very pretty."

Her hands glided down the silky dress, "Thank you, sir."

"You know, I always knew you had it in you…since the moment you stepped into that training room."

Pandora quickly recalled the empty room and Flemming's shadow staring from above. She was supposed to be assessed that day for a pre-arena score, but the assessment never happened. President Snow made sure of that.

Her eyebrows lifted, her smile darkened, "How kind of you to say."

He seemed to catch onto her sarcasm, "Don't be so glum! There's much to celebrate!"

His hand shook as he grabbed an orange tonic from a passing waiter and lifted it high to the crystal ceiling, "To you!"

She bowed her head politely, never taking her eyes off him, "No, Mr. Flemming—to Panem."

A sheepish grin erupted on his face. He ambled over her calculated words with a nervous laugh, "Now, I see you and Finnick—"

_Oh no_, she thought.

Pandora knew exactly where this was going.

She clenched her jaw in preparation, ready to sell her fake relationship. But before Artorius could finish a voice broke through. It was melodic, with a tenor edge.

"Father!?"

Her eyes shifted to the side.

It was a young man. He had jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. He was rather tall with intensely chiseled bone structure. As he approached he gave Pandora a once over and reached out for his drunken father.

"Is he bothering you?"

Pandora stared at the young man in silence. Her eyes moved between Artorius and him for several seconds. They looked nothing alike except for a flush of alcohol in both their cheeks. It was obvious the young man held his liquor better than his father.

"Come now, boy!" Flemming swatted at his son, "Miss Sullivan, this is my son—Kol."

Kol casually brushed his black hair away from his face and smiled. The smile lit up his bone structure and eyes, "Kol Flemming. Pandora, right?"

She took his hand and shook it, "Yes."

"I've seen you all over the media. Can't say I don't know what that feels like…"

Her eyes widened in realization. Kol Flemming. Of course. He was another famous character of the press. Only now as he spoke did she place his face. He was a young elite, the Capitol Press had made him out to be a romancer. The sort of man who has a different girl every week. During her Victory Tour she had heard Artorius and Adric mention Kol but only now did she put the pieces together.

"Is everything alright?" he inquired, "Damn, you have quite a grip on you, huh?"

In embarrassment she released his hand and looked away, "Sorry."

He studied her with a boyish laugh, "Now I know what the other Tributes felt like in the arena."

"Another fan?" Pandora quipped.

"Nah. To be honest I was rooting for the other guy."

Her smile quickly fell, just as Kol's broadened.

"Kol!" Artorius swiftly scowled.

"Relax, father…Pandora doesn't mind. I can tell she's a good sport."

Her eyes tensely lingered on him, "Of course. It's always a pleasure to hear someone else's perspective."

Kol loosened his tie and winked, "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine."

"Koool!" His father drunkenly howled in disbelief.

Pandora corner-eyed the young man for a split second before straightening up and arching her eyebrow.

"It's fine, Mr. Flemming," she narrowed her eyes and slowly smirked at Kol, "Is that how you get all those girlfriends? A quick wink and sly remark? Hardly imaginative if you ask me."

To her surprise Kol seemed to enjoy the response.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide the growing smile on his face.

"Actually it doesn't even take that much most of the time. I'm working extra hard for you."

"Kol, Miss Sullivan is spoken for!"

The mentioning of this made Pandora's chest tighten.

"Oh yea…Finnick Odair, right? That Victor from District 4..." His blue eyes slowly moved up and down her body as he whistled, "Well…if you ever get bored I'm only a phone call away."

She scoffed so loud it made Artorius jump, "Wow. I'll be sure to remember that."

A devilish smile widened on his face. He sipped his drink slowly as he let his eyes drop to her body again, "You're spirited. What a likeable quality in a young woman."

A thousand insults filled her brain, "I wish I could say the same for you."

His eyes seemed to linger on her for only a heart beat before they shifted past her shoulder. His expression changed from playful to pleasantly surprised, "Adric!"

Pandora's muscles went rigid.

She felt a breeze before Adric reached her side. He was dress in the most formal Officer's uniform she had ever seen him in. Black fabric with gold buttons, full decorations, and bars. His new medal glimmered as he bowed to Artorius and nodded to Kol.

"I didn't know you had been introduced to Kol," he observed, eyeing Pandora.

"We were just getting acquainted," Kol responded for her.

"Regrettably," she added under her breath.

Adric grinned slowly, placing his hands behind his back.

"Nice medal, should I bite it to see if it's real gold?"

"Don't be jealous. It doesn't look good on you."

"Of you, Adric? Always."

Kol let out a dulcet laugh and patted Adric on the shoulder. In reply Adric laughed quietly, his smile growing.

"Congratulations, friend."

"Thank you, Kol."

The violins were swelling. People began flooding the marble dance floor. Pandora found herself looking for Finnick. Her eyes shifted around the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen. He probably was hiding somewhere, waiting for the evening to end. Her lips parted. She wished she were with him.

When her eyes finally moved back, Artorius was hugging a column and Kol was jogging to help his father. Apparently the Head Gamemaker had his fill of alcohol for the evening.

Adric was still standing next to her. It took her a moment to realize he was watching her.

"You came," he said.

"It's not like I had a choice."

"Right," the conversation from earlier was still heavy in the air, "Well you look very nice."

"I feel like a doll."

He smiled at her darkly comical reply, "Where's Finnick?"

"Oh—" she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, "I think he's around here somewhere. I'm not really sure. When Artorius showed up he made his escape."

"Smart guy."

Pandora didn't return his smile.

"Would you like to dance?"

She took a step back and fearfully glanced to the dance floor.

"Just for a minute, I promise I'll let you find him after."

Her hesitation felt winded. She scratched her head in thought before looking into his eyes and slowly nodding.

"Alright…just for a minute."

A few people looked at them as they began dancing, their gazes made Pandora feel naked and uncomfortable. To distract herself she concentrated on the dance. It was proper, just like the one during the Victory Tour had been. A kind of waltz that required elegant posture and footwork.

Adric and Pandora never looked at each other the same time. Soon their eyes were also dancing. It was as if they were afraid to look each other straight in the face.

"You seemed chummy with Kol Flemming," Pandora finally investigated.

"Yes. We grew up together. He's quite the character."

"That's one word for it."

Adric looked down at her, "He's...precocious."

"He's an ass."

"Well, only to women. If that makes you feel better."

Pandora adjusted her hand in his and leaned away in aggravation.

"Don't worry about it, half of what he says he doesn't even mean. He just likes to get under people's skin."

"And what about you?"

She could feel his fingers flinch, "Pardon?"

"I mean don't you think it's all a little too much? You're pretending to be nice to me. President Snow probably paid you off to watch me."

"What?"

"Not to mention the fact that you keep ending up in the same places I do. Am I really supposed to believe that's a coincidence?"

"I exchange less than a few sentences with the President, what are you going on about?"

Determination glimmered in her eyes as Adric twirled her out and spun her back in.

"So it's a coincidence that I'm here, or that you happen to be around when I'm around?"

"Of course they aren't coincidences."

As usual, Adric's response surprised her.

"Then why?"

"I like you. I know you hate me, but that doesn't mean I can't like you. I want to be friends."

"Do you realize how pathetic that sounds?" She harshly spat back.

His dark eyes shifted around the room, "I honestly don't care if you think it's pathetic. It's the truth."

"Then you're just as pitiful as the rest of the Capitol."

He laughed, sending waves of anger trembling through Pandora's bones, "You can pretend all you want. I get it. It's what you're good at. Old habits die hard, right? But no matter…I'll be here, either way."

From the corner of her vision she noticed Finnick watching them, but her eyes remained on Adric.

"You're such a saint, Adric," she hissed.

When he looked back at her, intensity burned in his eyes.

"I know you hate me, Pandora. That much is obvious. But I also know you feel alone. I—I can't help the fact that I care…When I say I'll be here I don't mean that I'll be waiting on your acceptance and admiration, I mean that no matter what I'll be there to help you. Even if you hate me I'll be here. I don't think I need to justify that to you. You want so badly for me to be this monster you imagined in your head and I don't blame you for that. I told you I would prove myself, I meant it."

She speechlessly parted her lips.

"So what?" He continued, "Right? I can imagine what you're thinking. I'm a spoiled Capitol bastard who has devious plans, or evil intentions. I don't care. I know who I am, just as plainly as you know who you are—I know I'm not the villain and I know you realize that deep down."

"What do you know about me? Apart from a file a Capitol has. You don't know a thing."

She silently wondered if everyone around them could feel the hostility that was surfacing. Her eyes self-consciously darted around. Finnick was still at the edge of the dance floor.

"I never read that file, Pandora. I never wanted to. You aren't a piece of paper, you're a person."

"I think you're a liar. All that medal on their chest proves is that you're a murderer."

"And all your Victory proves is that you're a murderer."

Her grasp in his hand tightened suddenly. All the nerves in her body began buzzing with adrenaline and anger. There it was, the trigger, the one thing he could have said to set her off.

"Yes, except I never volunteered…I did what I had to. You think you're better than me?"

"No—"

"Of course you do. You want to talk about suffocated feelings? Look at yourself. You probably think befriending me will make you a better person. Poor girl from District 7 needs your help, is that it? You have no idea how inconsequential your existence is."

"You're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" she tried to hold back her anger, her voice lowered into a whisper, "My father was strung up like an animal. I was torn away from my family. I can't see them. I'll never get to see them again. Every terrible thing that has ever happened to me is because of your beloved Capitol."

"I'm not the Capitol."

She bared her teeth and narrowed her eyes. Misdirected anger suddenly took control of her tongue, "You were right. _I do hate you_."

The words were so sharp and raw that he drew back.

Her hand ripped away from him for a second but he grabbed her wrist, holding her.

Finnick's eyes widened, he was about to interrupt when Pandora held her hand up, signaling for him to stop. Her eyes blaze as she turned back around and took a step towards Adric.

"Don't touch me."

"Pandora—"

"You are pathetic if you could ever think that we would be friends. Not in this life, not even in hell would I be your friend," tears were welling up, "You are a liar and I will never need your help, you understand me?"

With a growl she whipped around and ascended the steps to Finnick, urgently taking his hand and walking away.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

Finnick peered back at Adric and squinted, "Did he try something with you?"

She closed her eyes, "No."

"Where are we going?"

"I need air. I need to leave this place."

After several paces of flashing cameras they jumped into the car and zoomed off. Pandora kept her eyes on the window the entire ride home. The sting of pain and confusion scratched at the back of her throat. It felt like her brain was bursting. Her breaths were shallow and hardened. She closed her mind off to the possibility of ever seeing Adric Pedersen as a reliance and friend. This was a grudge that was clinging to her for dear life. Over and over she replayed their conversation. The longer she thought about the worse she felt, worse because she knew she was wrong, worse because out of the two of them she knew who the real monster was. Her. She had probably killed more people than Adric had in his entire military career.

_But she had to kill those people. She had to—_these were everyone's favorite words to comfort her, lies to comfort her.

She never had to kill Nova, Marius, or Scorch. She could have saved Wisty and the poor girl from District 3...but she didn't.

Hot tears started to stream down her cheeks as she reached her apartment door and walked inside.

"Pandora?"

She tried to look away but Finnick grabbed her.

"Please let go of me."

He held her face in his hands, "What is it?"

She creased her brow and gasped, "I'm just—I'm all messed up inside."

"What did that soldier say to you?"

"Just forget about him."

"Is that why you're crying?"

"NO!" Her hands shoved him away, she was surprised at how fervently she defended Adric.

"Then what?"

"Please, I'm sick of talking. I'm so tired of talking."

Finnick stared at her. He dropped his hands to his side and nodded.

"Aren't you tired?" She asked through cries, "Tired of pretending, I mean how pathetic is this? We walk around as if we're together…I'm so sick of it all!"

His eyes softened. Without speaking he took a solid step forward, and then a smaller one. He did this until Pandora was against him and then further. She looked up at him as she felt the wall to her back.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't want to pretend anymore either."

His hand lifted to her face, her eyelashes fluttered as she felt his thumb caress her lips.

"Pandora—"

She could hear him breathing.

"I—I know we're doing this because of President Snow, because you wanted to help me…"

Suddenly his strange behavior was starting to make sense. Pandora widened her eyes, trying to ignore the knots in her stomach. A rush of understanding swept over her. This was what he was going to tell her in the car, this was what he wanted to say, and somehow she knew exactly what it was going to be.

_Not now_, She thought, _please just not now_.

"Finnick don't."

"I love you. I—" She could see the tears forming in his eyes, "I can't help but love pretending to be with you, because I only feel alive when you're around. I need you."

"Please—"

She tried to wiggle away but he moved closer.

"Please no more."

"Why?"

Her eyes were looking everywhere but at Finnick. When she finally looked him straight in the face she felt her breath tremble.

"Why, Pandora?"

Suddenly the answer was so clear, so true.

"If this is real than it will only be temporary. Somehow, in some way it will be over…I'll lose you. I can't lose someone else."

"You won't."

"Please—"

She could feel her knees getting weak.

"I love you," the whispered words filled her heart, making her forget about everything else.

When his lips met hers she didn't stop him. Her hands wrapped around him tightly. Her fingers combed through his hair as she parted her lips and felt his warm embrace. It wasn't like the one for publicity. It was hungrier, more passionate.

The world was falling away. All she saw was Finnick.

Somehow, with that single true kiss and that night, Pandora and Finnick became something more than friends.

She kissed him ravenously, her tears fading. It was only when he said it that she realized how much Finnick meant to her. Whether time was on their side or not, she suddenly didn't care. He was all that she had left to hold onto.


	17. A Year's Time

**_This is the second part to the sequel, which is the reasoning behind the time shift that is about to occur. I only say this for clarity, so there's no confusion with the timeline, though hopefully it's understood through the writing. ALSO I've already written almost all of the rest of the sequel, so I'll be updating multiple chapters a week (and because I am overly excited about just sharing the rest of this portion of Pandora's story)._**

**_Anyways, enjoy. _**

* * *

_A Year's Time_

Tempered sunshine streamed through the clouds. It cascaded past the crooked steeples of marble, steel and glass, finally penetrating the windows of the Panem Special Operations facilities. Dull light illuminated specks of dust, which softly danced through the air.

Apart from the ticking of a far off clock and the distant noise of city life the room was still, but it was a full quietness, weighted silence that crammed Pandora Sullivan's heads with questions.

She was resting her arm on the back of the sofa. Her eyes were focused on the streets below.

Dips in the white cobblestone collected spring rain, with the reflections of the pale sky the puddles appeared silver. From time to time a person or group would filed through the narrow way. The office was so high up the pedestrians looked like marching ants.

"What are you thinking about?"

The question pulled her back into the room. Even though Pandora didn't look away from the window she took in a steady breath. Silent seconds passed until finally she crossed her legs and glanced to Dr. Viktor Mironov.

"I was just enjoying the view."

A smile formed beyond his white beard, "Yes, it does have a nice view. Looks out onto the mountains."

She twisted her neck slightly. Her eyes briefly peered once more to the scenery. Sure enough, far beyond the buildings and bustling streets snowcapped mountains protruded from the earth. They looked like jagged white teeth. Although these mountains were much larger, Pandora couldn't help thinking of the mountains in her home District. She tried to close her eyes and remember the details of those mountains, the knolls, the forest…it was all so far away.

When Pandora opened her eyes back up she could feel Mironov staring at her. He was waiting for their appointment to continue, for her to speak. She contemplated the possible avenues of conversation to take but only a single overwhelming phrase played on repeat.

"It will be noisy again soon—the games will be beginning."

Her gaze lowered as she listened to her own words. They sounded strange out loud.

"We've been doing these appointments for a year now. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

She gave him a short-lived stare before looking away. It was hard to believe.

A year. That was how long she had been in the Capitol. That was how long she had been behind the golden bars of government and military. It felt like just yesterday that she had met Finnick Odair, that she had fought in the arena, that President Snow had brought her back to the Capitol to live…now it was the past. Her future rested snuggly on the horizon, still muddled and mysterious.

"It feels like it was a year ago just yesterday. I—I sometimes lose track of time. It's as if I'll blink my eyes and miss half my life."

"That happens as you get older."

Her fingertips traced the cool metal of her bracelet. A bracelet that her youngest brother had given her as a token of good luck. Her eyes narrowed at that memory. More than anything she wanted to be reunited with her family, to at least know that they were okay. Over the past year she had pleaded with Mironov, even President Snow to somehow let her see them, but each time her pleas were denied. The ache and longing was so severe that she would awake some night in a cold sweat and breathless rage.

"They say time changes things," she whispered back.

"Do they?"

Her eyes twitch to him silently, "I wish I could remember what it was like before the games."

Mironov leaned forward. His fingers scratched at his beard, "How do you mean? You're saying you can't remember?"

"No, not like that. Of course I remember it all, but it's like an old song you used to know. The old me feels like someone else entirely."

"Well I suppose that's because you grew up. No one stays a child forever."

Pandora didn't reply. This topic was a recurring theme throughout their meetings. Rarely did she speak about her hatred of the Capitol or President Snow, mainly because there was no way that would be fully allowed. These meetings with Mironov were for her own sanity or, as he told her, a way to ease Pandora into Capitol life. She was wary of this fact. She didn't want to be eased, she wanted to be left alone. No matter where she was forced to be, no matter how long, District 7 would always be her home, and although sometimes it was hard for her to remember this truth it was always there to help her.

One year had passed, that much was true, but Pandora Sullivan had little regard for time. After all time didn't matter, her sentence was for life.

"And how is Finnick?"

Her face brightened immediately. Her heart jumped.

"He's—wonderful. I don't know where I'd be without him. He reminds me of how good things can be."

"You've been with him for a year almost."

She parted her lips as she remembered their first real kiss. It was a warm memory, one that made her smile. Since then they had shared many more kisses, not only that but somehow, in some way, they were beginning to share their lives together. To Pandora, Finnick was the only one. She didn't need him, she didn't need anybody, but she wanted him. She loved him.

"Yes, I have," her palms calmly rested on her legs, "Sometimes it's hard—all the publicity—It's not natural."

"No?"

"All the pressure, I mean."

"I thought you had gotten used to that."

Suddenly she felt nervous. The thought of gawking crowds and press made her stomach churn.

"I hate it."

"The price you pay I suppose—for winning."

Her lips tightened abruptly. Her eyes dulled.

"I never asked to win anything. I thought that by now the world would forget about me. It's been two years since I won the Games. And now—with this year's coming up—you'd think they'd at least stop for a little while."

"You know, you shouldn't be afraid of your own promise. You have much to achieve in your life."

"I don't want to achieve anything!" she suddenly shouted, "I want to be left alone."

"Shh—Shh. The scientists will think someone is being attacked by tracker jackers."

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see the doctor smiling at his own joke, but her face didn't flinch.

She rubbed the temples of her head. A sharp pain vibrated through her brain and down her neck.

"Headache?"

She bowed her head forward, trying to open her eyes. The pain was passing but not fast enough.

"Woah—"

She didn't realize she was falling forward until Mironov had his hands around her. He steady his bad knee and helped her back to the sofa.

"Alright—let's not get too riled up."

His blue eyes uneasily widened as he propped her onto the cushions and reached for the pitcher of water.

"Sip it slow, now."

She clenched her teeth together as she took a breath of air and leaned back. A final slice made her vision darken for a second, "Ah!"

"Just breath."

By the time the pain fully passed her fingernails were digging into her palms. She shifted away from Mironov and grimaced. The water tasted strange on her tongue.

"So you're still having headaches?"

"I—they aren't normally this bad."

"Do you think you're getting sick?"

She frowned at him, her eyes darkly seared through, "You're the doctor. Why don't we just cut me open and find out? That's probably what you're planning to do with me anyways."

"That's not funny."

She laughed grimly as the her body relaxed, "Viktor, you look at my brain all the time. I think if something was wrong you would know."

Over the past year Mironov had been hooking Pandora up to a machine with wires, and putting her in claustrophobic tunnels, all so that he could study her brain. She had no idea why he was so interested in this, but she complied for fear of consequences if she didn't. For the most part they were painless.

"You're healthy. We don't need to worry about anything," he was examining her pupils with a small light. He pushed his glasses up as he leaned away, "You're still having nightmares?"

The mentioning of this made her feel nauseous, "I always have nightmares."

"They're getting worse?"

She rubbed her forehead and furrowed her brow, sudden irritation rattled her bones, "It's not important!—they're all the same—just nightmares!"

Mironov silently took in her response. He was observing her. By now he could tell when she was uncomfortable and when she was just plain angry. Right now she was both. He dropped his eyes and pulled off his glasses.

"Why don't you tell Finnick about these meetings?" He suddenly inquired.

She froze. Her posture filled with tension and stale shock, "He wouldn't like it."

Mironov nodded with a smile. As he rose to his feet he arched his bushy eyebrows and limped towards his desk.

"He goes home soon for the Hunger Games Reaping, eh?"

"Yes, tomorrow—he'll be mentoring again this year. I wasn't pick to mentor…I'm never picked."

Mironov was jotting notes into one of his journals. He didn't take his eyes of the pages. "Would you really want to be?"

Pandora's expression saddened. Her voice had an edge to it.

"No," she whispered, "I wouldn't."

Their appointment ended abruptly with an urgent call from one of the laboratories that needed Mironov's assistance. Pandora didn't ask question, she was happy to be done with it all. Soon, he promised her, she would not have to continue coming to these appointments anymore. That single assurance was enough to make her feel hopeful, though she couldn't repress the bite of suspicion lurking in her gut.

Instead of taking the car home, she walked. The rain steadily drizzled from the sky. She was thankful for the stormy weather, it made it easier to go about her business unnoticed by passing fans.

Her heels bellowed against the paved way. It was an hour before she found herself in front of the familiar glass tower. Yuri was snoring at his desk as she pushed through the doors and pressed the elevator button.

Moments and several footsteps later, she was at her door. Her hand quickly pressed against the identification panel. Instantly the clanking and screeching of security and locks echoed.

A soprano chime was swiftly followed by the robotic voice.

"_Welcome home, Pandora Sullivan and Finnick Odair." _

She smirked as she stepped inside. Raindrops trickled onto the floor when she pulled her coat off and stepped out of her heels.

"Finnick?!"

No answer.

She poured a glass of water and slowly meandered into the living room. Her gaze shifted to a photograph of Finnick and her, it had been taken during one of the many social functions the Capitol put on. Her smirk quickly transformed into a smile.

"I woke up alone."

She whirled around. Finnick was standing in the doorway.

"You're not trying to get away from me, are you?"

She returned his smile and shrugged, "Caradoc wanted an emergency photo shoot done."

"I think I'll have to talk to him one of these days…"

She peered up at him as he hugged her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. When he leaned away she craned her neck up and brushed his lips with hers.

"You'll miss me terribly when I'm away, won't you?"

Pandora let out a throaty laugh before kissing him on his neck and backing away, "I'll be lost. Absolutely lost."

"I figured as much."

His smile slowly straightened as he let go of her and wandered into the dining room. Suddenly he seemed worried.

"Another year," he seemed to whisper it to himself.

"Maybe there's a way you could get out of this, I know how much you hate doing it."

"No—I want to—I need to do this."

She pursed her lips and nodded, "I know."

"I'm just glad you don't have to mentor, you've had it bad enough."

"We both have, Finnick."

He stared at the glass table, "I can't believe it's already the 70th Hunger Games."

Pandora crossed her arms. Her brow furrowed at his words. Suddenly her conversation with Mironov felt very near, "Yes, it's funny how time works."

Finnick rubbed the back of his neck. A thoughtful groan simmered from him as he turned his face to the windows and looked out. His green eyes vibrantly sparkled.

"You know, it's strange…something feels very different about this time around. About this Hunger Game."

In the sunlight he looked like a shadow to Pandora, "How?"

"I don't know."

Silence loomed before he suddenly let out a laugh and turned around to face her. He shook his head.

"Nevermind that…I'll miss you, Pandora."

"It's only a week. Just don't be long."

"I haven't smelt the ocean in…well I can't even remember."

She leaned her back against the wall and smiled. She would never go home again, but it gave her comfort that Finnick could. Her only fear was that he would love her less after. The idea of it was crippling and yet so realistic it was hard to push away. Finnick was her light, if that light ever went out Pandora didn't know how she would survive.


	18. Anticipation Shivers

_Anticipation Shivers _

Spring and the coming of a new Hunger Games filled the streets with a fervor Pandora wished she could forget. Crowds were gathering in preparation for the celebrations. It would all start over again in a few days. The ceremonies, the interviews…the violence.

Days had passed since Finnick had left for District 4.

Today was the Reaping.

All over Panem, children from the various Districts would be blindly chosen to compete. Her stomach swirled with anxiety and knots at the thought of this.

At the end of Energy Corridor and the beginning of the central sector of the Capitol she stopped. Her eyes briefly glanced over the embellished architecture before she quickly leapt around cars and through crowds of people.

Her eyes blinked harshly at a few camera flashes that followed her.

She arched her eyebrow as a doorman bowed to her. Pandora was dreading what was about to happen. It was bad enough that the Hunger Games were here once more, but now she had an interview with Caesar Flickerman. Caradoc and several other officials had set it up in the hopes that it would properly warm up the audiences of Panem for the games. She was there to promote the games, to pretend that she loved every minute of them.

Together with Caesar, Pandora would watch the Reapings and answer questions and comments about the arena and the ceremonies.

She apprehensively nibbled on her bottom lip as she ascended glass steps to a small enclave, catching her reflection in a pristinely cleaned window as she grabbed the railing. Her skirt was made of black and deep violet taffeta, which matched a long sleeve plum shirt above and her black stocking below. Glimmers of violet sparkled from the corners of her eyes. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a silky ponytail.

Her heels pressed against the glass staircase as she steadied her nerves.

Within seconds she was well into the core of the building.

The corridor to the studio was long and narrow. Small windows let in a few rays of sunshine, and even more noise. Her eyes focused on the black door intently, over and over she was thinking up things to say.

The silver knob reflected a warped image of her. Suddenly she paused, her eyes squinting at her distorted reflection. A pain shook her. The longer she stared at the reflection, the more her head hurt.

With unexplained panic she shook her and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes closed as the headache slowly past. It was only a small one, but it was draining to experience, not like any other headache she had experienced.

Quickly she shook the panic out of her arm and opened her eyes.

Just when she was about to reach for the knob again, she felt the door give way. In surprise she took a step back and furrowed her brow.

"Adric? What are you doing here?"

His dark eyes widened for a second, apparently he was surprised too.

"Looking for you actually."

"What for?"

"It's a secret."

Over the past year Adric and Pandora were by no means mutual friends, but it was as if she couldn't shake him. He acted like her watchdog, a notion that she found completely ridiculous and Finnick dislike greatly. No matter how much she tried to push Adric away he was there. Although the night at the military ball was far behind them, it still strained their discussions together. Mironov had been gunning for Pandora to continue speaking with Adric. From what she could gather, Viktor Mironov and Adric were close, a fact that she found strange because the two had relatively nothing in common.

"What kind of secret?"

He grinned widely, tucking his blond hair under his officer's cap, "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you. But you'll like it. Just—don't say anything, yea? Nothing. I'm serious not a word."

"I hardly think this is appropriate."

"Let's just say you owe me one, kid."

A short man with a microphone in hand unexpectedly popped his head out from behind Adric's lean body, "Miss Sullivan!? What are you doing out there? We're on in 5!"

Pandora pursed her lips and nodded, "I'll be right in."

She waited for the man to disappear before she adjusted her shirt and peered back to Adric, "We'll see what I owe you."

"Don't get snappy, I'm serious. But look—I'll wait for you outside, and then after we'll go together."

He rushed passed her quickly.

As she whirled around to look at him she creased her brow in confusion, "Go where?!"

Another grinned widened on his face as he lifted his cap and bowed to her boyishly, "You'll just have to see!"

A deep sigh murmured from her lungs. Surprises. In the Capitol surprises were never good, at least that's what Pandora had discovered.

She paused for a moment in order to collect her thoughts. Her lips moved as she rehearsed her smile and charm. When she had a chance to catch her breath she let the door swing open.

The camera crew was babbling about the time and angles. A silver stage was set up against a white backdrop. Caesar Flickerman was already seated at the table, makeup artists were dolling him up. When he saw Pandora he flashed his pearly teeth at her.

"Pandora Sullivan!"

She adjusted the bracelet around her wrist and smiled, "Hello, Caesar."

He was sporting orange hair and a suit of the same color. It was very loud, almost blinding.

The leather seat creaked as she sat down and winked at him, "You look dashing."

"We're on in 2 minutes!" A member of the crew yelled, "Get those stylists off the stage!"

"Me? Oh-ho—but what about you? Beautiful as always."

"You're too kind."

As the stylists started to scatter Caesar leaned forward and grabbed her hand, "Now, don't you get scared—of course…what am I saying? The fearless Pandora Sullivan, scared?!" The most animated laugh boomed from him as he slipped his hand away and waved off his own comment.

"One minute!"

Her eyebrow arched as she scooted her chair closer to him, "Just don't make the questions hard, yea?"

"You have my word, Pandora."

They shared a brief smile before the lights above the stage started to brighten. The red lights above all the cameras flickered.

"We're on in 3…"

She rubbed her lips together and cupped her hands on the table.

"…2…"

Slowly a smile formed on her heart-shaped lips.

"1."

"Hello and welcome! As you all know today is the today it all begins. The start of the 70th Hunger Games!"

As if anticipating applause he stopped, though there was no in-person audience present he nodded out of habit and gave a quick chuckle.

"Today I'm sitting with someone who has filled the streets of the Capitol with her beauty and poise, a Victor of the Hunger Games, and probably one of the most well known faces in Panem history…Pandora Sullivan."

Pandora nodded politely, "Thank you, Caesar. It's great to be here."

"For days now Panem has been going crazy with the anticipation of this year's reaping…"

"Yes, it's always interesting to see the contenders," Pandora swiftly responded, "And I know how nerve racking it can be for the ones chosen…believe me."

"Oh I do," Caesar winked at the camera before continuing, "But you'll agree the atmosphere just becomes so much more magical when the Hunger Games are going on?"

Her first instinct was to grimace but she kept her façade up. Inside she felt nauseous. She was remembering her arena, her other Tributes, her pain…nothing was magical about it.

"Yes, it's thrilling, Caesar. The games are a good incentive for the youth of Panem to gain not only honor for their District, but also their family and lineage. It may be a difficult experience, but a rewarding one as well."

She hated herself immediately for saying all these lies.

"Now before we get started, you and Finnick Odair have been dating for some time, is that correct?"

"Caesar!" she pretended to be shy, it wasn't hard to morph her anger into bashfulness for the cameras.

"Come now, we're all friends here."

She let out a laugh and nodded charmingly, "Yes, Caesar. We have been for some time."

"Now, I just have to know. When are you leaving him for me?"

A few of the cameramen started smiling, they were eating up every minute of this exchange. Pandora continued to laugh too, but in her eyes there was an edge.

"Well, you know I don't discuss my personal life."

Caesar chuckled and gave her shoulder a nice pat before leaning onto the table, "Alright, alright…I get the hint. It's hard to compete with one of the youngest Victor's in Hunger Games' history, and one that's so handsome."

Pandora smiled, though truthfully she wanted to get up and leave. It was the beginning of the viewing and interview and she was already done.

"No more joking around! Let's get to all the good stuff. The Reapings are the first traditional step in the Hunger Games. It's the time where we give one female and male the opportunity to compete in the arena for their home District. Now throughout history we've seen Tributes of all shapes, sizes, and stamina picked and it always a wonder to watch. So without further ado let's get started, shall we!?"

Pandora could feel her nails digging in her palms. She cleared her throat timidly. If she didn't continue to smile she would fall apart.

The viewing started backward. District 12 was up first. Both Tributes looked underfed and shell shocked.

Pandora stared at the screen with repressed sadness.

Her District was painful. She nervously leaned forward, wondering if Dash's name would be called. President Snow had promised that none of her siblings would be reaped but she didn't know if that was a lie or not. Familiar faces dotted the screens. Frankly she wanted to see her brother in the crowd, to see his beautiful face, to see how much he had grown. Her heart hurt at the mere of idea of this.

When the screen finally did go black she could feel adrenaline rushing through her veins.

Around District 6 Caesar started in again.

"Now, look at that—" He pointed to the male Tribute from 6 with his pen and laughed.

The boy was smiling, he was actually smiling. It was shocking for Pandora to see someone from an outlying District so happy.

"That is a boy that looks like he deserves to win, don't you think?"

"You better watch out for him, he might charm all of Panem when the opening ceremonies start," Pandora swiftly added, trying to regain some of the composure she had lost.

"Quite right!" Caesar exclaimed with a slap of the knee and hardy laugh.

District 4 was coming up.

Her back straightened. She hadn't seen Finnick in a week, it felt like an eternity. Caesar corner-eyed her, as if he knew what her reaction would be.

"Onto District 4!"

The screen changed.

The familiar steps Pandora had once given a speech on came into view. The crowd of children anxiously waited. District 4 was a Career District, it wasn't uncommon for someone to volunteer, but it seemed that this time around no one was going to.

Her eyes searched the background for Finnick. After a brief second she could see him standing near the doors. His face looked grave and cool.

The names were being picked. First was the male. He was stalky with wild looking hair and small eyes. He didn't look like he'd last very long in the arena to be honest.

Second came the female.

Her hair was long and dark. When the cameras did a close up of the two Tributes, Pandora noticed that the girl's eyes were the same shade of green as Finnick's. The Capitol representative said her name was Annie Cresta.

"Some promising Tributes we have there," Caesar slowly said to the cameras.

After a brief second Pandora tore her eyes away from the screens and smiled at Flickerman. She was glad that he didn't say anything more about District 4 or Finnick.

The viewing continued on this way. Though when it came to District 1 and 2 Pandora found that she was less empathic, a tinge of sadness lingered at the back of her throat. As usual there were volunteers, older and stronger volunteers. They cheered with the crowd as they jumped onstage to receive more applause.

When the screen went black, Pandora leaned into the chair and turned her face to Caesar. He was already revving up to speak again.

"Wow! What a crew!"

Her eyes widened. She needed to play along, to say something, but suddenly she was tongue-tied, "Uh—yes—some promising Tributes, of course we won't know how promising till the ceremonies start."

Pandora's ears perked up to the roar of the crowd on the streets. They were fueled and ready for the games. She could hear them cheering through the thick walls of the building, it was so loud it made the floor hum.

Her eyes shifted to the cameras.

From the shadows of the pressroom Pandora could see the silhouette of the Head Gamemaker, Artorius Flemming, he was up next for an interview. A small bit of relief filled her, at least her time was almost over.

"Pandora—"

"Yes, Caesar?"

"As a Victor, and, obviously, a previous Tribute. What do you think are captivating attributes for the winner of the Hunger Games?"

She licked her lips and delicately tilted her head, "Honestly, I think it has nothing to do with brawn or strength. It's about speed. It's about resourcefulness and, most importantly, likeability. No one wants to root for a Tribute that is smug or cowardly, after all."

Pandora wanted to die, she was reminding herself of Catia Lawson.

"Well, I'm sure we can expect all of that this year!" Caesar cooed, "Pandora, thank you for your time."

She held out her hand, letting him kiss it before she smiled, "No, Caesar, thank you."

Her smile vanished as soon as she was in the darkness. Her eyes twitched to Artorius Flemming, he was drinking some kind of tonic, no doubt spiked with booze. As he caught her gaze he lifted his glass and greeted her with a silent nod.

She replied with a reserved smile.

The mobs outside were still cheering as she moved through the corridors and down the steps.

"Ready?" Adric asked as he stood to his feet. He had been waiting near the foyer.

Her face was drench in stoic irritation, "I don't know what you're up to."

"I'm up to nothing, just follow me."

Once outside she had to cup her hand over her ears. The crowd was so loud it was painful. Adric quickly grabbed her wrist when he saw that she was slowing down. A few pedestrians tried to grab at her, but they quickly staggered back when they noticed Adric's officer uniform and gun.

He opened the car door up for her but she didn't move.

"I'd rather walk."

"Are you serious? You'll be jumped…"

Her eyes narrowed. She clenched her jaw and shoved past him, climbing into the car. All she wanted was to be left alone, but apparently that wasn't going to happen.

Her fingers slowly traced the glass windows. She wondered what Finnick was doing right now. Probably introducing himself to the Tributes, already working on their game plan. Butterflies whirled in her stomach. She just wanted him to come back already.

"That was good show you put on up there."

Her glance moved to Adric, her head leaned onto the seat, "At least I'm good at something, even if it is deception."

He smiled and looked away, "Don't be sad, Finnick will be back tonight."

"I wasn't thinking about—"

"Yes, you were."

She parted her lips, trying to disguise her startled reaction.

"You're prying, Adric,"she managed after a long pause.

"I prefer the word thoughtful."

"I'm sure you do."

Again, he grinned.

"So where are we going?"

"The PSO."

"If this is some kind of joke?"

"No, it's not a joke."

Her eyes dissected him. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"You're never in the mood for anything."

She waited for a few heartbeats to speak. Her eyes peered outside then to the front of the car. Suddenly she could feel every part of her body. Nerves were buzzing, her head felt dizzy.

"Why will I owe you one?"

"It was just an expression, Pandora. I think you can live the rest of your life knowing that you don't owe me anything. Not after everything that you've been through," his voice seemed to cut off at the final words, he cautiously looked to the driver.

Adric was a well-trained soldier. He was good at remaining indifferent and reserved, but underneath it Pandora knew that Adric Pedersen remembered every nasty thing she had ever said to him. She clenched her jaw, recalling how angry she was when she told him that she hated him the night at the Military Ball.

Her eyes dropped.

_Not after everything you've been through_

Adric's words replayed over and over.

She wished that were true. The terrible truth was that she owed a lot of people. There was a burden on her shoulders and it grew larger and larger everyday.

"Tell me something, Adric."

"Hm?"

"How did you get to be the way you are?"

He corner-eyed her, "How do you mean?"

"I've met your father a few times. Each time he has been very unpleasant, prickly even. How is that you smile so much? Are you that delusional?"

"You're asking me why I'm not more like my father?"

"Is that a strange question to ask? It seems to me that you should be. After all you did follow his profession."

He crossed his arms, uncomfortable at the fact that Pandora had mentioned his father.

"Now who's prying?"

"At least I admit I'm prying."

His eyes moved to the window, "I didn't have much choice of career, Pandora. I was born into being a soldier. However, if you're asking me why I'm not more like my father, I guess I'd reply with one question. How do you know?"

"What?"

"You don't know my father, you hardly enjoy speaking to me…how do you know I'm not—what was the word you used?—prickly and elitist like my father?"

She furrowed her brow, "You're not."

"No?" Without a smile he shrugged, "Perhaps I'm only nice to you."

"I hardly think that's true."

He pulled his cap off and neatened his electric blond hair. Slowly a disguised smile formed on his face, "Careful, Pandora, it almost sounds like you're complimenting me."

Quickly she turned away. Her fingers traced the hem of her skirt.

"I never used the word elitist," she whispered after a short silence.

"I know. I decided to add that on, seemed appropriate. Why do you think he hates you so much?"

"He hates me?"

"Don't tell me you're surprised."

Suddenly she wondered why she was getting caught up in this conversation. Of course General Pedersen would hate her, she wasn't a Capitol elite pureblood, not even close. She was just some grimy girl from District 7 who was stupid enough to sign her life away to a mad man. General Pedersen had to know the deal President Snow had made with her so long ago. Quickly she remembered his judging gaze and pallid skin, the memory sent shivered through her body.

They were pulling in front of the PSO building. Before the car came to a full stop Adric opened the door and waved for Pandora to follow. She slowly obeyed, cautious of where he was taking her.

Although she knew that it couldn't be a terrible surprise her mind was still spinning. With every turn they took and corridor they meandered down her eyes anxiously peered around. She was looking for any clues or signs, of course there were none to be found.

Adric was walking vigilantly. Pandora noticed that he seemed guarded and attentive. His eyes darted around, his steps were slow. It was strange, almost as if he was trying to slip through the hallways unnoticed.

After many different levels of clearance they reached the final elevator. One that Pandora had never been in. Throughout her whole year in the Capitol, every time Pandora went to the PSO she was only admitted onto the floor with Mironov's office. Now, with Adric, they were bypassing that floor. Her eyes gazed at the numbers changing above the door. They were going to the top most tiers of the building.

She was wringing her fingers and hands together so harshly that it hurt, but she ignored the pain, continuing to stare at the changing number.

"Don't be nervous," Adric whispered just as the doors opened.

The windowless corridor was cold. Unlike Mironov's floor everything was sealed off. There was no glass, only marble and steel. The doors seemed to be made of metal, with numbers painted on them.

"What are—what are we doing here?"

"I told you already."

Suddenly Pandora felt unnerved. She abruptly came to a stop and shook her head with wide eyes, "I—I don't know what this is. I don't want any part of it."

"Pandora," he calmly sang, "It's a good surprise."

"I don't believe you."

"Just—" he tried to reach out to her but she batted his hand away and stumbled back.

"No! Tell me!"

Her voice echoed.

Instantly he rushed to her cupped his hand over her mouth.

His glare was a warning, "Whisper, okay?"

He looked nervous, "You have to ruin everything don't you? What do you think I'm going to do to you? Kill you?"

Her eyes filled with instinctive fear at his words.

He furrowed his brow, insulted that she would even think he was serious.

"Pandora—please just trust me."

"I want you to tell me why I'm here. Is it because I'm a candidate?!"

She gasped, surprised at her own words. She should have never said that.

Adric took a step forward. His dark eyes studied her face with confusion and questions.

"What? What do you mean candidate?"

He didn't know. Truthfully she was surprised. Her eyes twitched from the floor to his face, "I don't—I don't know what I'm saying—"

"Look, if I tell you, will you just agree to follow me? You have to be quiet though, Pandora. I need you to."

She swallowed the dryness in her throat, looking up at Adric. She took in a breath, thinking over his proposal before replying.

"Yes," she agreed, "Yes, I will."

He smiled and loosened the top button of his uniform.

"_I'm taking you to see your family_."

Pandora let out a harsh gasp. Her hand covered her mouth. Her deep brown eyes shockingly froze on his face.

A single word caught in her throat and rattled her senses.

"How?!" she shouted with a whisper.


	19. Faces Out of Time

_Faces Out of Time_

Without speaking Adric dropped his eyes and placed his hand on the doorknob. He held it there for a pause, closing his eyes as if he were praying.

Pandora's heart was beating like a hummingbird's.

As he twisted the knob she could feel her palms getting sweaty, taste the anticipation on her tongue. Her breaths and steps trembled as she moved forward into the darkness.

She could barely see a thing.

Her eyes strained to see a foot in front of her. When Adric shut the door a single screen turned on.

She whirled around, her eyes searching for August, her mother, any member of her family she could see. But there was no one.

Aching heartbeats pumped blood through her body. Her cheeks flushed as she turned to Adric and gasped, "You said—"

"Shh, shh—" his eyes softly stared at her as he pressed a single finger to his lips, "No one knows we're here."

She silently shook her head, confused and dazed.

Her gaze moved around the room, observing details. The bright light from the screen was flickering with white and black pixels.

"You said my family was here," she lowered her voice, unsure of how to speak.

"I said I was taking you to see your family."

"So where are they?!"

Adric's eyes widened. Urgently he stepped forward and cupped his hand over her mouth. When she looked into his eyes she could see how anxious he was.

"We're in a very restricted part of the PSO, Pandora. We're in the electromagnetic testing center, there are no cameras here because of the high levels of electron activity. The high levels of energy would fry the insides of the surveillance cameras."

Her words were muffled under his hand, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I couldn't risk showing you what I'm about to any other place. No one will come here, no one will know. You understand?"

Her head was spinning. She didn't understand a thing. She struggled out of his grasp and pressed her back against the wall.

"Show me what?"

From the folds of his military uniform Adric slowly pulled out something small. Pandora narrowed her eyes to see it. A gold glimmer briefly blinded her before he placed it in the middle of his palm and extended his hand.

She looked from the microchip to Adric's face.

He held it in between them silently and then without speaking he moved to the screen. His hands searched for something in the dark. Slowly Pandora walked toward him. He was placing the microchip in a electronic port that was hooked to the screen. His back was hunched in concentration.

Just before he closed the port, he peered over his shoulder, "I'm sorry I couldn't get you the real thing."

"What?"

She heard the port close. Suddenly the black and white jigsaw on the screen went black.

The next thing she saw made her whole body shake. It was footage of District 7. The camera seemed to be placed in a secret location but there was no doubt that someone was handling it.

All questions disappeared from her mind. She practically ran right up the screen. Her hand pressed against it. The sting of tears singed her throat and nose so sudden that she couldn't breath.

There were silent images of the forests and the knolls. Buildings she had past every day since she could walk flashed across the screen.

It was beautiful. It was home.

She could almost smell the pine, feel the breeze kiss her face as she ran across the knolls.

Her breaths stopped as the screen cut out for a minute with blurred pixels. She furrowed her brow, widening her eyes for fear that the film would go completely black…but then the pixels started to lessen.

Her erratic breathing had just slowed when the footage shifted from scenery to something she had yearned to see more than she could put into words.

Her family.

They were outside of the house. Dash and August were showing off her little brother's last whittling project. Her mother smiled. Tears started to stream down Pandora's face as she noticed that her mother had more gray streaks in her hair than the last time she saw her. Near all of them, sitting on the porch winding yarn was her sister. Ophelia was much bigger now. Her curls fell on her shoulders.

A painful gasp echoed from Pandora as her fingers clawed into the screen. She was touching their face, as if somehow she could rip through the plastic and metal and find her way back in District 7.

She tried to deafen her cries but it was hard. Her face was covered in tears. Her lips parted in wonder.

There they were. For a year all she could do was dream about them, and now she was seeing them. Seeing how much they had aged, how happy they were.

When the screen finally went to black she shrieked and hit the wall, "No…no…"

Her eyes hastily looked back at Adric, "I want to see them again!"

"Shh!" He warned, shaking his head as he leaned towards her, "I can't. We don't have time. Guards are doing rounds, we only have a few more minutes."

Pandora covered her mouth to conceal her cries of both joy and grief, "How did you do this?"

"A few days ago I took a train to District 7. I disguised myself, they thought I was just a peacekeeper. I couldn't get more then a few minutes before I had to leave."

Her eyes twitched to the black screen, "Why did—" she was trying to catch her breath, "Why did you do this?"

"I did it for you—you deserve to see your family, even if you can't be with them."

He said it so truthfully and plainly that she took a step back and dropped her eyes.

"I thought you didn't break rules."

His dark eyes looked away for a moment, he shook his head only once, "Some rules are meant to be broken."

Before Pandora could stop herself she rushed to him. She didn't know what she was doing. So many emotions were churning inside her. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

The hug shocked Adric. He raised his eyebrows and awkwardly froze.

"It's only a video," he whispered in surprise.

Her eyes filled with tears as the faces of her family members flashed through her memory. A cry shuddered through her body as she tightened her hug and gasped for air, "It's everything…thank you, Adric. Thank you so much."

His soldierly posture didn't waver but his eyes melted. He wanted to return the hug but instead he gently pushed her away and smirked.

"Thank you…" she repeated.

"We should go now."

She wiped the tears away from her face, still trembling.

Adric quickly moved to the port, his fingers pried the microchip out and dropped it on the ground.

His foot was in midair when Pandora grabbed his arm, "What are you doing?"

He corner-eyed her, "No evidence."

She wanted to stop him, to snatch that tiny chip and hold onto for dear life, but deep down she knew it would be stupid. It had to be destroyed. So slowly and solemnly she let him go and moved to the door. Her eyes snapped shut as she heard the loud crunch.

Adric careful put the broken microchip back into the pockets of his uniform. His eyes scanned the room slowly, making sure nothing looked disturbed.

The helium lights overhead blinded Pandora as they stepped out of the room and down the hall.

"We have to hurry," Adric suddenly whispered, grabbing her as he hastened towards the elevators, "We only have 2 minutes till the next guard gets here."

She quickened her step with a sniffle, "How do you know that?"

"I know the shifts."

"No—there's no clocks, how can you know the times exactly?"

He tightened his jaw and pressed for the elevator. Immediately it opened up, "I have a thing with numbers…"

Her lips parted, her head was blurry from everything that had just happened, "There are other cameras—we went through the main foyer, through other levels. They'll know we were here."

"Viktor will tell them you had an appointment."

She furrowed her brow, "Viktor?"

"I asked him, he agreed."

"And he won't tell?"

"No."

"How can you know that?"

Adric kept his eyes forward, "Because I trust him."

Although her eyes had dried, her cheeks were still flushed from crying. She walked alongside Adric quietly, feeling shame for the hug in the tech room. Her eyes looked to every face they past. She was sure that they knew their secret, that at any moment President Snow's guards would come down on them full force. Her eyes squinted. How would she be punished if Snow found out anyways? Surely he couldn't do much worse then he already had done. But then she thought of Finnick, Adric, and of Viktor. The idea of one Capitol elite punishing another was unfathomable to her, even though Viktor wasn't high up on the food chain his services were sought after, envied by other doctor's and scientist.

She shuddered to think of the punishments Snow could think up.

Outside the celebrations were still underway. The sun was setting, slowly the city lights were coming on.

Just before Adric opened the car door she stopped his hand.

"Adric…"

He turned his head from left to right, his eyes nervously glanced around the street, "You already said thank you, say it again and it'll start to get very strange."

Sincerity glistened in her eyes. She was trying to hold back the tears. He had no idea how much this meant to her.

"I'm sorry. I've treated you horribly."

"No—" he tried to smirk but it was obvious how uncomfortable he was, "It's understandable. I get it…I really do. "

"I never hated you."

He was still aware of the people passing by, of the waiting driver, but for a moment he relaxed. A saddened bliss swept over his face, pulling his lips up into a half smile.

"I was wrong that night at the Military Ball. I just need you to know that. I just thought you were—I judged you and I shouldn't have."

Calmly he placed his hand on hers, "I know, Pandora."

She let her eyes linger on his for a moment before she dropped her hand and stepped back. He opened the door for her. She expected him to shut it but instead he leaned in and raised his voice to the driver, "Take her home."

"Where are you going?"

He shrugged slowly, "Combat training. You should get home, Finnick will be waiting when he gets his Tributes settled in."

Her eyes searched his face one last time. "I'll see you around."

"It's a small place."

"Happy Hunger Games, Officer Pedersen!" The driver suddenly exclaimed to Adric, turning around to look at the young man.

Adric peered to the front of the car, "Yea…" he furrowed his brow in thought, "Happy Hunger Games to you too."

The car door shut. The engine roared to a start. A cool breeze danced around him as the tires sped down the street. He stared after it. He stared until the car was so far away it was only a blotch. A single memory was replaying in his head. The memory of Pandora Sullivan on a platform ready to leave the Capitol nearly two years ago. Everything about that recollection was so vivid…every sight, smell, and sound came back to him in a wild fury.

He brushed his blond hair back into its clean side part and wiggled his cap on. His eyes dropped as he popped his collar up against the cold and picked up his feet.

Through the glowing city lights the whistle of a train screeched, soaring around every Capitol street, building, and home. Crowds were rushing to the station, ready to welcome the Tributes of the 70th Hunger Games, but not Adric.

A soft drizzle fell from the clouds as he walked home.


	20. Waking Nightmares

_Waking Nightmares_

The elevator doors had scarcely opened before Pandora flew out and quickened her pace towards her apartment. A whisper of anticipation was followed by a smile as she peeled her heels off and started jogging.

The closer she got to the door the more the anticipation grew. Suddenly her heart skipped. She pressed her hand against the door and pushed. Breathing deeply as she searched around rooms.

Finnick was home. She couldn't restrain her excitement.

"Pandora?"

Just as she shut the front door she turned to see his silhouette in the darkened living room. Her eyes unwaveringly stared at him. He took a step into the light. His bright green eyes were just as vivid as she remembered.

When she ran towards him he started laughing. His eyebrows rose as she pressed her lips against his and clawed at his back.

"I missed you," she whispered in between kisses, smiling a little as he returned her embrace.

Before she could say anything else he picked her up and quickly returned the kisses on her lips, cheeks and neck. It was only a week since they last seen each other but it felt like another life for Pandora. She eased her way into his gentle grasp and let herself drown in him. Each caress and kiss was a memory that she would hold onto forever.

Afterward, in the darkness of their bedroom she rested close to him and smiled. Her hand relaxed on his chest as she gazed out at the city lights. He tangled his fingers in her hair and sighed.

"I missed you too," he finally whispered.

Her eyes sparkled, "Did you get them settled in?"

Immediately she regretted the question. He shifted away and let her hair slip through his fingers. His eyes stared at the ceiling in thought.

"Yea. I did."

"Don't worry, I'll be right here by your side for the entire thing."

His lips formed a sad smile.

This was the rift in their relationship. The one thing Pandora struggled with. She could help Finnick with anything but there was no way she could understand what it was like to be a mentor, to fear the death of two individuals that are, by all rights, your responsible to help live. Every time she tried to put herself in Finnick's shoes she was lost.

When she saw his pained grimace she wished she could take it back.

"Tomorrow is the Opening Ceremony—I handed them over to the stylists."

Pandora thought about her opening ceremony. The chariots, the confusion she felt. Everything was a blur then, and still was.

"We should get some sleep, I have to get up early."

"Of course," she whispered.

More than anything she wanted to tell Finnick about what Adric had done for her. The film clips of her family, the way it made her feel safer to know that President Snow had kept his end of the bargain intact, that her family was healthy, happy, and unharmed. She yearned to tell him, but Pandora knew she couldn't. What Adric had done was against the terms of her agreement with President Snow, he had broken the rules as a gesture of friendship.

For so long she felt like she was in the dark. She felt pain and loss, but when she saw her family's faces those feelings were eased. Her eyes watered at the thought of them laughing. It was peace of mind. All her misdeeds and sins, all her tragedy would be worth it.

But instead of saying all this she simply turned over. Her cheek pressed against the satin pillow. Her eyelashes softly closed, her muscles relaxed.

It wasn't long before sleep slowly swallowed her.

_Click-click-click. _

_Darkness. _

_Everywhere the dark closed in on her. _

_Her eyes shifted from left to right. _

"_Hello?!" She called. The echo of her voice sent chills down her spine. _

_Clicking, chaotic and shrill clicking sounded. Then static. _

_Unnervingly and sluggishly a song started to crescendo. It took her a moment to identity the melody, and when she did her it felt like her lungs were shattering her ribs. _

_The Anthem of Panem. _

_No words were sung, only the instruments bellowed through the blackness. Creepily. Engulfing her in a strange symphony. _

"_Hello?" This time her voice was laced with fear. _

"_Help!" _

_A gasp trembled her body. _

"_Who is that?!"_

"_Help…" _

_A male voice. _

_Her hands swatted through the obscurity. Her feet began moving. _

"_I'm coming!" She yelled, suddenly she was running. _

_Whether she was moving forward, backward, or upward she didn't know. All she knew was that she was moving. _

_With a screech the anthem cut out. Her feet shuffled to a stop. Her eyes looked around aimlessly. _

_A low hum sounded. Followed by the ignited glimmer of a dull blue light. _

_This was a light she had seen before. A light that always terrorized her sleep. _

_In the distance a cylindrical tank filled with glowing blue water appeared. Reflection of the rippling water cascaded through the glass, into the darkness, covering her body. _

_She knew what was about to happen before it did, but the floating figure in the tank still froze her steps. _

"_Adric…" she whispered. Her feet started forward. _

_The blue light against his fair skin and blonde hair made him look like he was glowing. _

_Her hand pressed against the glass. _

_When his eyes opened she wasn't scared. She knew this was going to happen. _

_Bubble simmered from his mouth as he slowly peeled off the mask and stared at her. _

"_Help me…" his words were muffled underwater. _

_She remained motionless. Her hand dropped to her side. Her head tilted back. _

"_HELP ME!" _

Pandora awoke with choking wheeze.

Immediately her hands covered her face and eyes. Daylight was blinding.

A headache dully crammed her skull.

Her teeth clenched in anger as she tossed the sheets away from her body and fell to the floor.

This single dream, this single image, was something that she couldn't shake. A nightmare that came to her every month, each time it felt more real than the next.

When the headache had passed she reached for the end table, steading herself to her feet with a trembling breath.

Finnick's side of the bed was empty. It hadn't been slept in for some time.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she approached the window. At first she thought that was the sun was rising, but as she came face to face with the glass she realize she was wrong. The sun wasn't rising, it was setting.

Her hand pressed against her head as she stumbled back. She had slept through the whole day.

In panic she ran to the bathroom and started the shower.

By the time she was dressed and made up it was completely dark outside. Her breathes unevenly quivered as she made her way down the white walkway. Chants and screams were shattering the night. Fireworks filled the sky. A cool sweat covered her brow as she struggled to meet the time of the Open Ceremonies. It wouldn't be long before they started.

She shook her head in frustration. She had never slept through an entire day, something was wrong…she knew something was wrong. Her hands nervously tapped against her thighs as she rounded the corner towards the mouth of the building, pushing past a small portion of the crowd to do so.

She was almost to the doors when she felt someone tugging on her coat. It was someone from the crowd.

"Pandora Sullivan!" they started screaming, "I love you! I love you!"

Her eyes widened. Normally she would have felt annoyance, maybe fear, but not now…something else broke through. Anger. Anger like she had never felt.

He was pulling on her coat so much that she was starting to move forward.

"Let go of me," she growled.

But he didn't hear her over the roar of the crowd.

She furrowed her brow and struggled to get free, but her feet were moving backward. She was too small to pull away. With fright and nervous tension she whirled around and grabbed the man by his coat.

A gasp stopped every muscle in her body.

Suddenly his face turned into Scorch's. His mouth was foaming.

A deafening scream bellowed from her. Before she could stop herself she balled her fist and left hooked him as hard as she could across the jaw. Blood spewed from his mouth.

"_There is a fight! I repeat, a fight. Back up, now!"_ A guard was shouting into his walkie.

Her eyes darted around as she stumbled back and fell to the ground.

"Alright you," the guard angrily grumbled.

He grabbed Pandora by the wrist and pulled her up. His eyes widened when he saw her face.

"Miss Sullivan?"

Her head was spinning. She blinked her eyes a few times, trying to slow her heartbeat.

"I—" her eyes twitched to the front doors, a group of soldiers were spilling out. The first face she was Adric.

"Pandora?!"

Her knees buckled just as he reached her.

"Woah!" he quickly grabbed her shoulders and helped her catch her balance.

"What is going on?"

She was speechless, her lips parted but no words came out.

Adric peered behind her, his eyes landed on the man she had just punched. Sudden urgency filled him, "Did he attack you?"

She gasped for air. Slowly her head nodded, "He wouldn't let go of me."

Adric furrowed his brow, "Alright—I got you, don't worry."

She frowned as he helped her to the doors.

"You can take care of this?" He asked one of the soldiers who had a large scar on his face.

"Don't worry, we can take care of the crowd."

He gave the soldier a firm nod. His eyes lowered as they crossed the large foyer. A few audience members that hadn't taken their seats yet stared at them and whispered.

"Pandora," he shook her slightly, "You have to be normal. Just relax."

Her gaze fearfully twitched around, her eyes were burning, "I need to sit."

"Do you want me to get Viktor?"

She inhaled slowly, lowering her body onto one of the benches, "No…I'm fine."

He grabbed her chin and tilted her face up, "You look sick."

Her eyes fluttered for a minute, "Please, don't get Viktor. I'm fine."

Adric stared at her doubtfully. After a few seconds passed he peered around, "What happened out there?"

"I was—I was late—I was in a rush and that man wouldn't let go of me."

"So you punched him?!"

She clasped her hand to her chest, "He wouldn't let go!"

Her shout echoed through the cavernous foyer, causing Adric to straighten his back. That wasn't the truth at all. The truth was that she had a flashback to the arena, but she didn't want to admit that. If she admitted that aloud she could never take it back, never be as strong as she was before.

"Look, just calm down," he whispered, taking a seat next to her, "Are you tired?"

"No…I don't need sleep."

"Maybe you should go home."

"I have to support Finnick."

Adric scanned her face, "Do you want me to get him?"

She was beginning to catch her breath again. Her vision was becoming clearer, her voice more steady.

"No. Don't bother him with this. It's nothing."

"Alright."

Music suddenly started to blare. The Opening Ceremonies were beginning.

"The chariots!" Pandora exclaimed, "We should get inside."

"Hey—woah woah—" he grabbed her arm to stopped her, "Maybe you should just sit for a minute, hmm? I could get you water."

She pursed her lips and slowly moved away from him, "I'm not thirsty."

Before he could say another word she climbed to her feet and started walking. Adric silently followed her. His eyes were glued to the back of her head as they ascended the steps to the seating.

An ovular ring was surrounded by thousands of seats. Most were filled, however there were still a few that were empty. Near the end of the large track, sitting in a marble faced balcony, President Snow was awaiting the procession of Tributes.

The Panem Anthem sounded and the lights dimmed just as Pandora found her seat. The music made her feel nauseous, reminded her of the nightmare that had sent her into a strange spiral.

Iron doors slowly opened at the edge of the track. A few onlookers were throwing flowers already.

Adric worriedly glanced to Pandora's flushed face before settling down next to her.

"I thought you were on duty?" She whispered just as the Tributes from District 1 came soaring onto the track.

"I'm not going to leave you."

"I don't need to be looked after."

Music echoed through the stadium proudly.

"Yea, well—I need it."

Her terrible dream scratched through the fogginess. She solemnly rubbed her lips together and turned away.

Screens hung throughout the stadium, showing close ups of each Tribute.

Her eyes lowered to the iron doors just as District 4's chariot emerged. Pandora tried to concentrate on the chariot but it was hard for her to focus. Her head leaned back, her chest rose up and down slowly.

"I had a terrible nightmare," she whispered to Adric, not fully knowing why she had.

His dark eyes peered at her but the rest of him remained straight and soldierly, "What?"

"It was just a nightmare, but it—it was terrible. It keeps happening to me."

"Pandora…are you sure you're okay?"

She glanced to him, holding her gaze on his eyes for a long second, "Please don't ever ask me that again."

He studied her grimace and tired eyes. Pandora's fair skin had gone so pale that the dark circles underneath her eyes looked lavender, even her pink lips looked white. Of course she wasn't okay, but Adric had no idea why. Despite his worry he tried to get a hold of himself.

"You got it," he finally whispered back, trying to seem reserved.

The President was giving his speech, but it was all white noise. Holding composure was something Pandora excelled at, but for some reason she couldn't seem to fully steady herself. She leaned away from Adric, staring vacantly around the audience. Whatever had happened to her with that nightmare made her feel unhinged, and it was happening very fast.

Slowly she lifted her hand to her head and rubbed her temple. Her throat suddenly felt cracked and dry.

When Snow finally finished Pandora crept to her feet. Adric stared at her in surprise.

"Where are you going?"

A few people turned to look.

"Don't follow me," she harshly whispered back.

Her feet were moving faster than her brain. She needed to see Finnick, that would make her feel better. Her hand pressed against the wall as she started to descend the steps.

Footsteps were following her.

"Pandora…"

Adric was right behind her.

At the back of her skull a headache started to hum.

He reached out for her shoulder. She was still on the stairs when she turned around.

"What is going on?!" he exclaimed.

Instantly she yelped in horror. Although it had to be Adric, her mind was playing tricks on her. Marius's face was staring back at Pandora.

"No…" she groaned angrily, pulling away from him in terror.

"What's the matter?"

"You're not Marius!"

"What?!"

Suddenly the dull headache heightened. She let out a whimper and lifted her hands to her head.

"Ahh!"

Her feet fell out from under her.

Adric tried to grab Pandora but she was falling too fast. Her body rolled down the steps, pain splintered throughout her body until she collapsed at the bottom.

"Pandora!"

Her vision was hazy as she felt Adric turn her over. He lifted her head up and apprehensively scanned her pallid face.

He wasn't Marius anymore. He was Adric. A pained sob murmured from her as she gasped for air.

Dark spots started to form in her visions. He was shouting something to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Just before she fainted she heard the shuffle of feet heading towards them.

_Beep. _

_Beep. _

Her eyes squinted open.

_Beep. _

At first his face was only a silhouette. His blond hair seemed to glow against the bright lights overhead.

"Viktor!"

She flexed her fingers, grimacing as she felt the fatigue in her limbs and head. Her mouth was as dry as a desert, muddled blotches confused her eyes. Seconds past before her vision fully cleared.

"Where am I?" She groggily asked, dully turning her head from left to right.

Suddenly someone else came into view.

Mironov gently tilted her chin up. His light eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "Pandora? Can you hear me?"

She blinked her eyes. His voice was muffled for an instant.

"Pandora?"

"Yes, why am I—am I in the infirmary?"

Mironov helped Pandora sit up, he nodded as he readjusted her pillows and IVs, "You fainted, Adric took you here."

Slowly the memories of the past few hours came flooding back. The headache, the flashbacks she was having...all of it.

Adric was pacing near the doorway. His eyes darted to her as he moved from left to right.

"Adric said you were hallucinating?"

"No!" She clawed at the sheets nervously, "I just was confused. I was tired."

Mironov glanced over his shoulder, he was trying to hide the worry in his eyes, "Pandora, I think you were having flashbacks—"

"But—"

"Now," he quickly interrupted, "If you were, that would be normal. You aren't insane, you're brain is simply trying to cope with past trauma, you understand?"

She lowered her eyes shamefully.

"I know I'm not insane, Viktor," she snarled under her breath, "I don't need you to tell me that."

Mironov straightened his back and took of his glasses. He stared at her silently before he turned around, "Adric could you give us a minute."

Adric stopped pacing, he twitched his eyes from Pandora to Mironov. It was obvious he wanted to object but instead he nodded in compliance.

Mironov didn't turn back to her till the door was completely shut, "He's becoming quite the watchdog, isn't he?"

Pandora rubbed her lips together and peered away, "He thinks it's his job."

This made Mironov smile.

"Why don't you tell me what happened today?"

Her lips parted. She looked at the IV in her arm and shrugged sorrowfully, "Everything was good last night, I was happy. Then I had this…" she shivered at the dream, "…this terrible nightmare. When I woke up it was evening. I slept through the entire day, I've never done that. I felt sick, it felt like something was off. When I got to the Opening Ceremonies a fan grabbed me. One minute he was just another face, but then it changed. I saw Scorch…"

"Adric said that just before you fell down the steps you called him Marius."

Her hand lifted to her brow, "For a minute, I thought…I thought I saw Marius."

Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, quietly Mironov moved his hand to hers and gave it a gentle pat.

"Is that why you were screaming?"

"Yes, and—" her voice cut out, she couldn't look at him, "—I had another headache, if you could call it that. It felt more like someone had taken a knife to my brain."

"And that's why you collapsed?"

"Yes."

His hand moved away from hers. He quickly looked away and rubbed his beard. For some reason he wouldn't look her straight in the face. His lips were curled his entire face into a strange expression.

"Viktor…"

"Hm?"

Her voice lowered to a whisper, "Adric told me what you did, so that I could see my family."

Although Mironov didn't look at her his head perked up, "I hardly did a thing, Pandora."

"But it means a lot to me. It means more than anything."

All she could see was his profile. He smirked sadly.

"Well if I was able to see my family again, I know I would hope someone would do the same for me."

"Thank you."

Pandora thought that her offer of thanks would have had more of an affect on Mironov, but it didn't. Without looking at her he simply nodded, placing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he stood up and sighed.

"I took a blood sample and some scans of your brain and spine, just so you know."

"What were my results?"

He stared at his shoes, "There was nothing. You're completely healthy."

"But I know something's wrong. I can feel it."

His eyes lifted to her face instantly. He was nipping at his lip when he lowered the chart to her gurney and smiled.

"Pandora I would know if something was wrong. This is what I do. You are simply overworked, you need rest."

"_Where is she?!"_

The voice made her attention shift to the door.

"_Just hold on one second, you can't just go in there!" _

Pandora's eyes widened as the door flew open. Finnick pressed his hand against the frame. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was tousled from running.

"What happened?!"

He cupped Pandora's face in his hands and stared.

"Are you okay?!"

She swallowed hard, reminding herself to play it off. A tired smile lifted her lips slightly, "I'm fine, Finnick…I'm fine. I just—I fell down a few stairs."

Finnick urgently glanced to Mironov, "Is that true?"

Mironov clicked his jaw in thought and he slowly nodded.

"You have nothing to worry about. She's strong. Not even a sprain on her. She just needs some bed rest. I recommend a lot of relaxation."

Mironov lowered his eyes to her face and tried his best to smile.

"Pandora, you're free to go whenever you want."

Just before leaving he tapped Pandora on the shoulder and turned around. His feet echoed into the corridor as he shut the door behind him and glanced at Adric. The helium lights buzzed quietly. He had only taken a few steps when he heard Adric's military boots following him.

"What's going on with her, Viktor?"

"I don't know what you mean."

They turned a corner together.

"That was not normal earlier. She was having a mental breakdown."

"Well, that's what happens when you repress things, they come out in strange and catatonic ways."

A few doctors gave Mironov a nod as they past.

"She was screaming. She kept talking about a nightmare. Did you ask her about that even?!"

"Lower your voice, Mr. Pedersen."

Adric's nostrils flared, "Don't you talk to me that way. Did you ask her?"

Mironov suddenly stopped, he turned so that he was face to face with Adric.

"I didn't see the point."

"What do you mean?"

"Pandora Sullivan has been through a lot…"

"You don't think I know that?!"

"I think you know it. I don't think you understand it. She has survived the arena. In order to do that she had to make decision that cost people lives. So no, I am not surprised that she has nightmares still. I don't ask, Adric, because if she wanted to tell me she would tell me."

Adric pursed his lips and leaned back.

"You're lying to me, you know something and you're not telling me."

"Since when do I answer to you? Adric, I've known you since you were a baby. I'm asking you to trust me, leave this be."

Adric angrily glared back at him. His dark eyes were burning with fear and rage. He let out a scoff and shook his head, "I hope you know what you're doing, Viktor…because if you don't and she gets hurt…someone is going to answer for it."

"You care about her too much, Adric."

"Yea? And what about you? You realize that just because she looks like Atty doesn't mean she is, right?"

"Don't bring up my daughter, not now."

Adric blinked his eyes away. He hardened his face and started stepping back, "Goodbye, Viktor."

"Wait—"

Before Mironov could stop Adric, he was gone.

He stared at the officer's shadow until it turned the corner.

The old doctor pulled on his lab coat in frustration. He stood there for several minutes, his eyes felt heavy and his bad knee ached.

When he started walking once more he released a heavy sigh and shook his head. Over and over again he saw Pandora's face, over and over he felt guilt.

The lab results were resting on his desk by the time he got back. He glanced down the hall for a heartbeat, before clearing his throat and closing the blinds.

It was dark in his office. He only bothered to light a single candle before taking a seat. Silently he rocked his chair, his eyes were glued to the folder.

"Rather archaic isn't it?"

The voice simmered from the darkness. Instantly Mironov sat up and widened his eyes.

Footsteps sounded.

As President Snow emerged from the shadows he adjusted the white rose on his lapel.

"The candle, I mean."

Mironov side-glanced the flame.

"It feels good on my eyes."

"Seems strange that someone like you would use that. With all your experiments and inventions I would have thought you'd create your own light emitting technology."

Mironov lowered his eyes. "I was going to meet you tomorrow."

Snow smiled sinisterly, "Well, Viktor, I just couldn't wait. Those are the result I suspect?"

His hand moved to the folder, "Yes."

"And how is our candidate?"

"I don't feel comfortable with this."

"Viktor—" Snow condescendingly cooed as he took a seat across from the doctor, "Viktor, Viktor, Viktor…this isn't a bad thing. What you're doing is miracle. It's science."

"It's just that she had an episode earlier this evening."

"You said that was to be expected."

Mironov tried to cloak his concern, "I wasn't expecting it to happen this fast or badly. I've been giving her the doses every month, slowly introducing it into her system in preparation. Mr. President, I don't know if her brain can take what this procedure will entail. There are so many other things going on inside her, it seems the memories of the arena are interfering with a smooth transition. I know I told you that her irregular chromosome count and blood results are the only compatible types I have found, but maybe there's another way. I'm just afraid—what I mean is—I'm concerned that there's a chance she will never be the same afterward."

Snow's snake eyes sparkled. He rubbed his temple and smiled through the shadows. His whisper seemed to hiss.

"So?"


	21. Sparring

_Sparring _

"_With the coming of the Opening Interviews tonight, all of Panem is a'buzz wondering who will charm and thrill the crowd and who will fall flat. From the Hungers Games Municipal Tower, this is Caesar Flickerman. Here with me is Artorius Flemming. Artorius—" _

"_Hi, Caeser." _

"_What can we expect to see with the Tributes this year?"_

Pandora wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and grabbed for the remote. Her eyes barely left the screen before she turned the power off and slumped back.

Sunlight was spilling into the loft. It was just late afternoon. The roar of crowds thundered throughout the streets, rumbling the buildings. For a second she could have sworn she saw the glass trembling to the chaotic sound of cheering and chants.

"What was that?"

"Just—preliminary interviews," she whispered.

Her eyes didn't lift until Finnick was standing in front of her. He was pulling on a suit jacket. His hair was styled to the side.

"Do you feel any better?"

Pandora smiled quietly. The truth was she did feel better, almost immediately after being released from the infirmary she felt like herself again, but she was afraid. Afraid that this was a precursor to something awful. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, there was a gut instinct squirming inside her, an instinct that told her something was wrong.

"I feel great," she replied.

"You really worried me…" he took a seat next to her on the sofa. Her eyes fluttered at his touch. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Finnick, I—" she wanted to say she was scared, but the word caught in her throat, "It's alright. I was dehydrated and tired. Don't worry about me."

"Sometimes you make it hard."

Her hand lifted to his face, "You know what would make me happy? Stay with me tonight. Don't go to the interviews."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

Finnick's eyes quickly moved to the windows, "My mentees need me. I need to help them. You understand."

But she didn't.

Her hand slowly dropped. She didn't want to make a fuss but secretly she was insulted. After all she had just collapsed down a flight of stairs, even if Finnick didn't know the whole story he knew that much. But something in his eyes told her he was far away. His hand was around her but it felt like someone else's.

She pursed her lips as she recalled the first time they kissed, how hungry and passionate he seemed. Finnick had always been that way, even up to a few weeks ago, but ever since he had left for the Reaping in District 4 he had changed.

"Of course," she whispered, "I just—I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be. I'll be back before you know it."

She furrowed her brow and nodded.

"I know," a strained laugh past her lips, "I'm just being silly."

He grinned slowly. His eyes flickered to her as he leaned in for a kiss, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

His lips brushed hers for a brief second before he stood up and straightened out his suit and shirt, "See you soon."

The instant she heard the door close she felt alone. Her eyes sadly turned to the windows. She felt like crying but couldn't find the strength.

Slowly the sun fell. Reds and pinks bled through the blue sky. Evening came faster than expected. The only sound she could hear for the longest time was the ticking of the clock on her mantel. An hour must have past before something echoed into her loft. Her eyes widened in awareness.

It was the rhythmic noise of feet.

Suddenly she sat up and narrowed her eyes towards the entrance. Her hand grabbed the armrest of the sofa as she climbed to her feet and shuffled to the door. Pandora had just reached it when a symphony of knocks boomed.

Her mind only went to one place. It must be Finnick, perhaps he changed his mind and decided to stay with her. Her finger quickly fumbled for the handle. It swooshed open so fast that her hair stirred around her face and shoulders.

Pandora's heart dropped.

"What are you doing here?"

Adric was dressed in his civilian clothes. In his hands was box.

"I was checking in on you."

He looked like he hadn't slept.

"Uh—why?"

He adjusted the box and cleared his throat, "Can I come in?"

"I guess."

Her eyes widened as she watched him rush into the loft and throw the package on the counter.

"I didn't think you should be alone…with you feeling badly."

"I feel fine."

"Yea, well—" he was sorting through the box, haphazardly tossing things around, "I don't believe that."

"Finnick will be back soon," Pandora had no idea why she decided to say that, she grimaced instantly.

"That's funny, I just saw him at the Interview prep…"

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Adric, what the hell are you doing? What is that box?"

"Aha!" He grinned broadly as he peered up and began putting things on the counter, "I have things to make you feel better. I have some medicine for your headache from Mironov…and a knife and piece of wood so you can whittle."

"I—" she suddenly felt overwhelmed.

"I thought you would be missing that, I remember seeing your house in District 7, it was filled with hand crafted wood."

"Adric!"

Immediately he stopped.

"I don't want any of this."

"I was just trying—"

"I know. I get it. You're being nice…as always you're trying to be nice."

He straightened up, letting his hands fall to his side before he took a step back.

"Look—I know I'm starting to get used to you. I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for…" she thought of the video he had showed her, "…for everything."

"I don't mean to annoy you."

She stared at him silently. In a way it was nice. She did feel lonely.

"Finnick couldn't stay with me, he had to go…"

"Yea?"

"I wanted him to stay but he had to go."

Adric studied Pandora for a moment. Normally she seemed slightly melancholy but there was another kind of sadness in her eyes, on he couldn't put his finger on.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her lips parted, her eyes were glossy from stress.

"No—I—I'm lonely."

She inhaled deeply, shocked that she admitted it so nakedly to him.

Adric's dark eyes twitched to her face.

"Don't leave."

"Alright," he whispered back with a slow nod.

Self-consciously she dropped her eyes and took a few steps forward. Her hand reached for the box when she was close enough, "Thank you for the whittling tools and medicine. Do you want something to drink?"

"I can get it. You sit."

"No, I like to. It keeps me busy."

She glanced at him before moving into the kitchen and filling two glasses up with water. She quickly looked away when she handed one to him.

"Sorry I hit you on the stairs. Or—shoved you."

"Don't mention it."

"I wasn't myself."

Adric sipped his water. He waited for her to look up at him before he smiled, "You're sad…why are you sad?"

Her hand moved to the back of neck, "It feels like something's wrong. It's as if Finnick is upset with me, or—I don't know what I'm saying."

Heat rose to her cheeks. The thought of Finnick being angry with her was frightening. She could feel Adric staring at her, but it was hard to look him in the eye. She felt ashamed that she had admitted her doubt.

"Hey…you want to get out of here?"

"Viktor said I should stay in bed."

"I don't care what Viktor said, do you want to get out of here or not?"

Her gaze shifted to the windows, only a second passed before she replied, "Yes."

"Right—grab your jacket and follow me, kid.

She pulled on her shoes and sweater, hustling to catch up with Adric as he opened the front door and started walking down the hallway.

After they past through the lobby unnoticed and stepped outside she spoke, "Where are we going?"

Adric smiled, "I think I know."

The streets were deserted. Everyone was at the City Circle, at the Opening Interviews. Even though Pandora could hear cheers and applause, it was from a distance. White walkways and pristine arches surrounded them as they continued to weave their way through the Capitol. Pandora watched Adric carefully. It was obvious he was a Capitol native. He didn't think about where he was going next, he simply strolled, as if every turn and step was habit.

When the finally stopped she lifted her eyes. They were in front of an abstract building made of steel and white reinforcement. It curved high into the sky ending in a sparkling silver point that reminded Pandora of a needle. The Panem flag hung over the entryway with the Capitol crest thread in gold onto the silky blackness.

"What is this place?"

"Military affairs."

She felt a slice of panic, "What? Why are we here?"

"You'll see."

The handle lit up as Adric touched it, automatically the door unlocked. Pandora furrowed her brow in thought. The handle was handprint activated.

Although there was a desk in the foyer no one sat at it. Just like the streets outside, the building felt vacant.

"Am I joining the armed forces?"

He let out a quick laugh and pressed for the elevator, "Yea, right."

Her hands grabbed for the railing as the elevator jolted up. It was moving so fast that it felt like the lift would shoot through the roof of the building.

When the elevator finally did stop and the doors opened Pandora froze in confusion.

Beyond the opened doors were a series of weapons, punching bags, mats, and targets. It reminded her of the Training Room before the arena, but more advanced.

"It's the combat preparation room."

She nervously followed him, her eyes unblinking, "Am I allowed here?"

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Clearance was needed to get in…"

"That's just to keep common civilians out. You're not a common civilian."

The white room was blinding. All along the walls were Panem Flags.

"Why are we here?"

He slowly peeled off his jacket and smiled, "I was thinking last night…"

"You think?"

His smile widened, "I was thinking that for obvious reasons you've been unsettled."

She looked away uncomfortably. Her eyebrow arched as her smile dropped.

"And you know what I think you need?"

"What's that?"

"To hit something really hard."

Her eyes moved to his face in shock. She tilted her head.

"I'm going to show you how to fight."

"I know how to fight, Adric."

"Why? Because you made it out of the arena? That doesn't mean anything."

This made her expression turn tense. Her eyes narrowed in a flash of anger, "Excuse me?"

"Now, don't get defensive. You wouldn't last one round against a trained person, you're small and fast but if you get caught then it's over."

"I did just fine when I was faced with death."

"You broke almost every finger in your hands and your leg. From time to time I see you touch you leg, so I know you can remember that pain very well. You were nearly torn apart by that boy from District 1. Do you honestly think you did fine?"

The aimed question made her draw back.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You need to talk about it, made obvious by what happened yesterday, but I know you don't want to…I get it, and if you did why would you say anything to me? But this will help you silently deal with it."

"How is that?"

"You're afraid of physical confrontation. When it happens to you your mind goes back to the arena, am I right?"

Her silence was enough to tell him he was right.

"I think this will help you cope with that. Viktor may think you need to talk through your issues, I disagree, I think you need to face them. It will ease those memories. So are we going to do this or not?"

Pandora glared at him and shed her sweater. Her eyes stirred with fire as she walked towards him and pulled her hair up.

"Good," he answered to her silent actions. "First thing is hand to hand combat."

Adric widened his stance and stared at her as she mirrored his actions.

"No matter what fight you're in, balance is always the most important. Without balance you'll lose. Keep your legs shoulder width apart, be light on your feet."

He smirked a little as she rolled her eyes.

"Now, let me see your fists."

Pandora sighed before balling her hands and lifting them into the air.

"Try to hit me."

"What?"

He nodded to her and waved her forward, "C'mon, don't be shy."

She shook her head doubtfully and inched forward. Her back hunched as she tried to take a swing at his chest. He dodged that easier and faster than Pandora had ever seen, pushing her away harshly.

"More from your shoulder and core, Pandora. Not your neck."

In annoyance she readjusted her posture. When her fist flew through the air this time she landed a solid punch to his stomach.

She expected him to react but he only laughed, he was only slightly out of breath.

"Good. You feel that? You feel the force. It's all coming from your core. Again!"

This time when she swung at him she closed her eyes. Instantly she wished she hadn't. The memory of Petro's mangled corpse rattled her brain.

"Ah…" she grabbed the side of her hand and stumbled backward. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her heart was suddenly racing…not from sparring but from fear.

"Pandora!" Adric took a step forward.

Flashbacks of the arena were clawing her insides suddenly.

"You're seeing things?"

"I'm not crazy!" she roared through the pain of memories.

"I know you aren't," his voice was steady and sincere, "You need to keep going."

"I can't…" the song of the eels made her head spin.

"You need to face this! Come on, you can do this!"

Her hands were clasped on her knees, she was bent over and breathlessly glaring.

Adric didn't stretch his hands out to help her, instead he tilted his head up confidently and slightly lifted his fists.

"You can do this, Pandora. Never give up."

A growl simmered past her teeth as she tiredly took in a breath and straightened her back. She gasped for air, slowly wiping the sweat away from her brow.

"C'mon," Adric whispered, his eyes became intense, "I believe in you."

With one more breath she lifted her hands and jumped forward. Sure enough more memories swelled, but she didn't stop. She threw a few blank punches at Adric, which he easily blocked.

Scorch's bleeding eyes.

Marius's death.

The way it felt to slide a knife into Nova's stomach.

The sound of Wisty's neck breaking.

All these memories and more stirred. Her eyes watered as a scream echoed from her. She was relentlessly coming at Adric, but he was well trained, her blows were easy enough to deal with. Even when she started crying she didn't stop. A few times Adric swatted at her, only to keep her going. Pandora knew that if he seriously decided to fight her she wouldn't make it past the first punch.

"I hate it!" She suddenly started screaming, thrashing at Adric.

Adric pursed his lips and blocked her blow, shoving her away for a minute to give her some space.

"What do you hate? Tell me what you hate!?"

She stood in place for a moment. Her whole body was trembling from adrenaline and grief, "I hate—" tears fell from her eyes, "I'm—I'm a murderer—I didn't have to kill any of them! I wanted to! And I hate myself for it!"

She was pacing. Her screams were unsteady.

Adric stared at her in shock, for the first time she was telling him her emotions, her real emotions.

"You think you're a bad person?"

Her eyes sadly shifted to him, her feet stopped, "I'm not even a person anymore."

"I don't believe that."

"Why should it matter what you believe?!

"Does it matter to you?"

Her brow furrowed, her face was flushed from crying, "I just said it doesn't!"

Adric took one step forward and stared into her eyes, "I am here."

"Don't say that!"

"I'm your friend."

"Shut up!"

She threw a punch at him, but this time he caught her wrist and held it. She lifted her other hand to smack him across the face but he quickly blocked the hit.

"I'm your friend."

"You don't—you can't be—you don't know me."

His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, "I know enough to understand that you aren't a bad person, you aren't a murderer—"

"I am! Why else would I be plagued with these memories, they won't go away!"

"You think because you have guilt that you're being punished?"

Her uneven breaths shuddered her lips as she kept her eyes on him.

"Pandora, if you were a murderer, you wouldn't think twice about those people. You wouldn't care…but you do care. Killing someone isn't the same as murdering."

"Why are you making me do this? I don't want to—I—I can't, if I stop pretending then it will hurt."

"I'm doing this because you need someone to make you face this. I'm not going to let you ruin yourself. You've seen what happens to other Victors when they decide to give up."

She could taste her tears as she slipped her wrist out of his grasp and staggered back, "What do you know about other Victors? You are—you're just a kid from Capitol."

"I know enough."

"You seem to think you know everything about me," Pandora slowly stammered, "Why is that?"

"Because I care."

A dark laugh left her lungs, "Why? You grew up here in the Capitol. All your you've been surrounded by wealth, by the Games. All you're life you've had it easy. And then I come along and suddenly you want to help someone like me? You tell me that you're my friend? I don't believe it."

"You miss the point entirely."

"Which is?"

Adric turned his face away from her and sighed, "I love the Capitol, Pandora—I realize…I realize you can't understand that. I would never betray my family or the Capitol. It's my home. When I tell you I care about you it has nothing to do with that."

"But why?! Why—why did you show me that film? Why would you do that for me?!"

His eyes dropped to the ground. There was only one way he could explain this to her, one jigsaw way that was so unclear and detoured he was sure she'd think he was crazy.

"I hated you when I first met you, you know?" his words were sudden and cold, "You remember when we first met?"

Pandora recalled her first day in the Capitol, when she attacked the beautician because he tried to take her bracelet. She recalled that it was Adric who escorted her into the interrogation room to first speak with President Snow.

"I remember."

"I hated you because I'm trained to do that. I'm not supposed to think about who you are as a person, I'm supposed to think of you as a civilian—Do you know I haven't watched a full Hunger Game since I was thirteen?"

Pandora silently shook her head.

"But I watched yours. I don't know why—I can't explain—but I did."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say, Adric."

She watched as he lifted his hand and covered his mouth in thought, his face was still turned away from her.

"I don't know how it happened, Pandora—but somehow, when I looked at you I felt that if you ever got out of the arena I needed to help you. It was like lightning striking. And then I saw you at the train station, and I knew you'd hate me. I know you still do."

Her gaze dropped.

"I get it—I do. I'm not doing this so you'll be my friend. I'm doing this because something inside me is telling me it's the right thing to do. It feels like it's something I have to do."

Finally he turned back to her. His eyes looked gloomy.

"I know you don't understand, but I know what I'm doing is the right thing. It's just… It's fate."

When he said the word she quickly lifted her eyes. Fate. A strange word, one Pandora hadn't heard in a lifetime aloud, but one that tormented her. Every time she thought of fate she cringed, her fate was nothing but death and destruction. To Pandora fate was a horrible joke, but to Adric is was hope, it was light.

Her creased brow remained but her eyes gradually softened. Suddenly standing next to Adric Pedersen didn't seem forced. For the first time since she had met him, she was seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. Suddenly she felt trust.

"You're right. I don't understand," she swallowed the dryness in her throat and nodded before looking away, "But I believe you."

Shock covered Adric's face. He relaxed his lips and studied her expression, it wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"Thank you," she continued, awkwardly keeping her eyes away from Adric, "For this."

"It's nothing…" he managed.

Finally she met his eye line. Her face was sincere, "I'm sorry."

"No, you don't have to—"

"I can't be your friend right now, Adric. I hope though—I hope that doesn't make you think less of me. But—" she rubbed her lips together, staring at her shoes as she tried to sort through everything that had just been said, "—I trust you. I know I trust you, and I know I believe you. I'm sorry for ever making you think you had to prove yourself."

"Pandora—"

"Don't say anything. Just—let's leave it at that."

Adric crossed his arms and nodded. He wanted to look at her but couldn't find the courage, "Alright."

She quietly put her hands in her pockets and cleared her throat.

"You ready to keep going? I promise I won't freak out, anymore." She finally whispered.

"Yea…" he slowly responded, "Yea I'm ready."


	22. Pain Hums

_Pain Hums _

A cool breath blew in from the north as she exited on the main avenue and glanced to the sky. A flock of birds soared over the tops of buildings. The scent of morning was still softly fluttering through the streets. In only a few short days the Games would begin. All night the crowds stirred and cheered, fueled by the craze and anticipation of the arena.

Her boots splashed through a puddle of rain as she rushed towards the familiar white steps that led to the Hunger Games Municipal Tower.

At the entry a few guards nodded to her, after a year they had finally decided to let her pass through the doors and security levels with little supervision. She bowed to them as walked by, her eyes quickly moving ahead.

"Miss Sullivan! I'm so glad you could come."

Much to Pandora's surprise Artorius Flemming wasn't drunk.

"Hello, Mr. Flemming."

"Artorius—please, we've known each other nearly two years, the least you can do is call me by my first name."

"If you wish."

Artorious had asked Pandora to attend an interview that Caesar Flickerman was putting on. Apparently the Head Gamemaker thought that it would look good in the press for a past Victor to sit side by side with several of the other Gamemakers. He got the idea after the preliminary interview she attended. At first she wanted to decline, but there was nothing left for her to do. Finnick was busy with mentoring—it was different this year, different because he seemed more preoccupied with training than the prior year.

"I heard about your spill the other night at the Opening Ceremonies, I hope everything is okay."

She tried to smile, "I just lost my footing, those stairs feel a lot harder than they look."

"Ha! Of course—"

"Hello, Pandora."

Her gaze twitched to Artorius's side. Kol was walking hand in hand with one of the young Capitol representatives.

"Kol," she responded coldly, nodding her head to him in recognition.

"I hope my father's not boring you too much."

The girl on his side suddenly started laughing like a brainless animal, she placed her hand over her mouth as if she were pretending to be shy.

Artorius only corner-eyed his son.

"Well it could always be worse, couldn't it?" She quickly remarked, "I could be stuck with you."

"You should be so lucky."

"Kol—we don't have time to talk—Miss Sullivan and I were just heading into the interview room."

"Right," his hand slipped to the girl's side as he laughed, "I was just heading that way myself, escorting Lexia to her Tributes—"

"My name is Cora," she sweetly corrected, her thoughtless eyes peering up at him in confusion.

Pandora laughed in amusement, pursing her lips to stop herself.

"Right—that's what I meant."

"Of course," Pandora added, arching her eyebrow as an unstoppable smile overtook her face, "Artorius? We should probably get in there soon."

"Yes, we should—"

"It was nice to meet you Lexia—or—I mean _Cora_," Pandora purposely whispered as she winked to the girl and passed them by. Her smile broadened when she heard Kol scoff.

"I'm sorry about that," Artorius apologized as soon as they were out of ear shot, "He's so young you see."

"Aren't we all."

"If only—" his jovial laugh echoed through the corridor, "This shouldn't be long."

Several Capitol reps and stylists were crowding the hall. A few stared at Pandora as she passed, instantly recognizing her face. Her shoulders and arms twisted against the crowd. She could see a few Tributes coming through the doors and setting up on benches near the infamous silver doors leading to the training room.

Her heart raced at the recollection of her days before the arena. She remembered being completely lost in the training room, overwhelmed by the stations and equipment, scared of other Tributes. As Artorius and Pandora past by some of this year's group she could see the same bewilderment emanating from their whole body. The most nervous Tributes were the ones from the outlying Districts. Her eyes thoughtfully peered over different faces. She could hear some of the Careers laughing, see them huddled close to the doors confidently.

Her jaw clenched as she stared at their way. Instinctively she hated the lot of them, hated them because of her own biases. She was just about to look away when she caught sight of a familiar face.

Annie Cresta.

Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, her green eyes twinkled as she locked gazes with Pandora. It felt like they were staring at each other for an eternity.

"Pandora—"

Her eyes slowly scanned Annie's face, body, and demeanor. Even though she was standing in a huddle of Careers she looked nervous, out of place. She couldn't have been more than a year or two younger than Pandora.

"Pandora?"

Suddenly she snapped out of it. Her eyes closed for a brief moment, when she looked back to Artorius he was holding the door to the training room open for her. Somehow they had already arrived. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out when they had stopped walking.

"Are you okay?"

She blinked her eyes back to the Tributes. Everyone was staring at them.

"Sorry, yes…" her lips parted as she walked through the large doors into the vacant training room.

Everything was set up for the training to begin. It wasn't exactly how she remembered it, a few changes had been done to the organization and set up of the stations, but it was still eerily familiar. She glanced to the wall of gleaming weapons anxiously before lifting her eyes further to the observation studio.

Beyond the glass she could already see Caesar Flickerman preparing for the interview.

Artorius went up the steps first. Although Pandora was trying to concentrate on the task at hand she found herself looking back at the training room.

Even when they arrived in the studio room she headed towards the windows so that she could catch another glimpse of the equipment.

"Alright, I want the camera's to be there," Caesar was directing, "I want us to get a shot of the Tributes training in the background, you get that?"

She rubbed her lips together as she turned back towards the cameras being set up. A row of 5 chairs was set up. Almost all had been filled except two, one for Pandora, the other for Artorius Flemming. His was in the center. A single chair was separate from the others, presumably Caesar's.

"Pandora!"

Her body went rigid. Her eyes twitched to Caesar. He was heading right for her.

"I was hoping Mr. Flemming would convince you to come," as he reached her he grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Yes, it's an honor—as usual."

Her smile waned for a heartbeat.

"Don't be intimidated," He whispered, "The Gamemakers are a fun group."

She cynically stared at him, hating that she volunteered for this. Fun wasn't the word she would to describe a group of men and women who make it their job to idolize mass murder and violence.

"I'm sure," she hesitantly responded.

"_Camera's are on in one minute!" _

"We should get to our seats."

Pandora quickly darted to her chair, her eyes fearfully scanned over several of the Gamemakers, they were staring at her with an eye of scrutiny.

"Lero!" Artorius shouted, "You can let the Tributes in to train."

A man with a streak of orange in his hair emerged from behind the camera, he was wearing the uniform of an assistant Gamemaker, "Yes, sir."

"_Alright, action in 3…2…1…" _

The blinking green light turned red.

Pandora straightened her back and crossed her legs.

"Hello, this is Caesar Flickerman with your Hunger Games Update. I'm sitting here in the Gamemaker's Observation Studio where just beyond that glass the Tributes for the 70th Hunger Games are training…In addition to our lovely panel of Gamemakers including Head Gamemaker, Artorius Flemming, is one of the most beloved Victor's in Panem history, Pandora Sullivan."

Pandora smiled to the cameras, noticing that her interview companions were doing the same.

"Artorius as you've said this is your 6th year as Head Gamemaker."

"Yes, Caesar, that is correct…"

"What do you do to make every year original?"

Pandora's eyes twitched to the glass. She could hear the doors opening up. The Tributes were coming in now. She watched one of cameramen panning the camera around only a few feet away. He was capturing far off images of the preparations.

The Careers entered like they were running from a stampede. Instantly they picked their weapon of choice. It made Pandora feel sick. The idea that this was something a Career dreams about doing was insane to her. It was strange to live in a world where an eighteen-year-old boy would happily volunteer to slaughter other human beings for sport, but even stranger than that was the fact that only two years had past since Pandora was down there, scared and overwhelmed. Now she was in the observation studio, now she was a Victor. Many things had changed over those two years, but one thing had remained constant: the barb of being overwhelmed, the pang of fear.

"Now, Pandora—"

Instantly she looked to Caesar. She quickly reminded herself to smile.

"It must be strange to be sitting here, when only a short while ago you were down there…just another Tribute?"

It was as if Caesar was reading her mind.

"Yes, it's something else, isn't it? I was just thinking that," She laughed under her breath, trying to make her words sound carefree.

"It's true that the Gamemakers get an interesting perspective on the Games because, well, they help create each arena—but some might say you also have an insider's perspective, yes?"

"Yes. I guess that's why I'm here, Caesar," there was an edge to her voice that she didn't intend. Her eyes widened when she realized that Caesar looked a little confused.

"Well I don't want to bore you with the obvious questions, Pandora—I just want to get down in the dirt, just between all of us here is there any Tribute that you've seen and think has promise as a winner?"

She dropped her eyes. Truthfully she didn't even care, she wanted to remain as far away from the Games as possible but it was an aimed question. Any Tribute she picked would be endorsed by her, it would help that person with sponsors in the arena.

She smirked slowly, trying to come up with some sort of plan in her head. This was one of the only ways she could help Finnick, her eyes suddenly brightened.

"Actually I do."

"Oh really?! This should be interesting, who is it?"

Pandora cleared her throat, "Annie Cresta from District 4 seems to have a lot of promise."

"Interesting choice, why do you think that?"

It wasn't until she had said it that she realized how biased it would sound, after all she was in a relationship with the mentor of District 4. Her heart started racing, she cupped her hands nervously in her lap.

"I know it sounds rather out there but I have a feeling that she has a few tricks up her sleeve, some that the Capitol might not expect," Pandora recalled Annie's timid behavior in the hallway and recaps of the Opening Interviews, "I think she has spirit, don't you? A sort of understated charm?"

"Wow, quite a compliment coming from one of the most charming Victor's Panem has ever had."

She let out a laugh, glancing to the cameras, "Thank you, Caesar."

When his questions finally turned to the next person she relaxed slightly. Her lips mashed together in thought, she tried to keep her attention focused on Caesar and his questions but it was almost impossible.

Several long minutes passed before the closing.

Caesar gave his short goodbyes, smiling widely even after the cameras had been turned off.

One by one the stage lights shut off. Pandora didn't wait another long second to lift herself out of the chair and head towards the door.

She raced past the windows, noticing that the training room was now empty. Her brow furrowed. They must have been in that interview for longer than she thought.

Even the corridor was empty as she pushed through the door and meandered towards the exit. She twitched her eyes around, stopping when she finally saw a lone mentor coming out of one of the rooms.

"Excuse me—"

He was older with a warped face.

"Could you tell me where the other mentors are?"

"The Commons," the man vacantly responded, "Everyone adjourned for lunch."

Again, her brow furrowed. When she was a Tribute there was a common eating and lounging area but Lux Halstead hadn't let them in there. He told Pandora that it was a bad idea, only leading to possible fights. Apparently other mentors including Finnick didn't see it that way.

She nodded to him swiftly, picking up her pace in order to make it there before everyone had left.

The Commons was very large and ornate, just like everything else in the Capitol. Handcrafted tables covered in linin and china waited to be eaten off of. Screens broadcasted the latest news and stories. Tributes and mentors alike sat at their own tables, each one whispering to one another about possible game plans and strategies.

As Pandora entered she glanced around the room. District 4's table was completely filled. Not only were the Tributes and Finnick seated there, but the stylists as well.

Finnick looked up as soon as she stopped, it was if he knew she was coming.

Her hand lifted into a wave, her lips in a smile. But he didn't smile back. He looked tired and agitated.

He said something inaudible to the table before getting up and heading her way.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the building, I wanted to say hi."

"You're supposed to be on bed rest."

"I feel fine, besides I had an interview."

His eyes quickly darkened, he looked more on edge than Pandora had ever seen him, "Yea, I know. I saw the live feed."

She pursed her lips, unsure why Finnick seemed to snap at her, "Are you okay?"

"I need to talk to you."

Before she could respond she felt him grab her arm and gently pull her to the side. He was just about to speak when a wave of laughter roared from the Capitol representative on the far side of the room. Pandora saw Kol telling them jokes, he looked up at her for only a moment before returning to his mindless conversation.

"I don't know why he keeps hanging around here—" she hissed as she glowered at him.

"Who?"

"Kol Flemming, that pompous bastard."

"Pandora—"

She looked back to Finnick, her eyes widened.

"What?"

"Why would you say that in the interview?"

"I don't know what you mean—"

"You just told Flickerman that Annie Cresta is a good opponent."

"I don't see why that's a bad thing."

Finnick stared at her, "You just put a huge mark on one of my Tributes."

"I was trying to help you."

Pandora was confused, she didn't understand why he was so angry.

"Yea, well next time you want to help, reason before you say something."

"Finnick—I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"That's the problem, you didn't think."

"I was trying to get your Tributes sponsors."

"I don't need your help!"

His whispered shout made a peacekeeper near the doors turn towards them.

Pandora glanced to the peacekeeper self-consciously, her lips parted with frustration, "Okay, I'm sorry, Finnick. I just—I'm sorry, okay?—Why are you so angry?"

"Look—I—" he looked back to the District 4 table and shook his head, "I didn't mean to yell at you…I'm just tired."

Her hand slowly reached out for his, it felt strange to hold it, "Why don't you come home, just take a day off?"

"I can't."

"You can though."

"If I do then it will only increase the chances that they'll die in the arena…I'll see you later, okay? I—" he quickly kissed her on the cheek, "I love you."

Quiet sadness swept over her. When she slipped her hand away from his it hurt her heart.

"I love you," she whispered back.

He gave her a strained smile before dropping his eyes and walking back to the table. Her gaze followed him, he didn't look back at her, not even when he sat down. She lingered there. Her back against the wall, her head hung low.

She was just about to look away, to walk away, when she saw something that made her stop. It wasn't a big deal, it was small, inconsequential even, but it made her freeze. As Finnick pulled his chair in he looked at the female Tribute, Annie Cresta. They smiled at each other. He looked happier than Pandora had remembered him being in a long time, his smile wasn't forced or pressed. It was a boyish grin, a whimsical smile.

"That's interesting, huh?"

She jumped in surprise, quickly recovering with a frown.

Kol. He had snuck up on her.

"What are you talking about?"

His blue eyes peered back to the District 4 table, "I thought you and Finnick were still together."

A slice of jealousy cut through her, "We—we are."

When she looked back she furrowed her brow. Suddenly her heart was racing. Finnick and Annie were laughing together, but it felt like they were laughing at her.

Kol crossed his arms and glanced at Pandora with a dimpled smile.

"Doesn't look that way to me..." he slowly replied.

She knew what he was trying to do. He was messing with her, trying to get under her skin. But the longer she stared at Finnick and Annie, the more inescapable and torturous the thought became. A low hum of a headache buzzed in her brain. She lifted her hand to the side of her face and blinked her eyes away, forcing the idea out.


	23. Wine and Revelry

_Wine and Revelry_

The bed was cold when she awoke the next day. Her eyes squinted open. The indention of his body was still in the mattress but Finnick was nowhere to be seen. For a moment she let her hand slide over to his side of the bed. Her fingers spread apart as she blinked her eyes in half-sleep.

Every night since his return to the Capitol he had woken up early without explanation or apologies, but Pandora knew why he was gone today. Today were the score trials. Tonight everyone across the Capitol would be tuned in to see the scores of every Tribute for the 70th Hunger Games.

Last night she heard Finnick cry out in his sleep, heard how his nightmares were torturing him. Their fight was heavy in the air even with apologies it was hard for Pandora to shake the image of his angry face. He had never once been angry with her, not even when she let Wisty die, but now it was different. He wasn't angry with her, he was angry at the circumstances, angry that he couldn't control things.

She brushed the hair out of her face as she sat up and blankly looked around the room. It felt hallow. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

When the phone suddenly rang she didn't look surprised. She simply peered at it and rubbed her lips together.

The slim receiver clicked before she spoke.

"Hello?"

"Pandora, this is Elia…from the President's office."

She recalled the blonde haired assistant with golden tattoos, "Yes?"

"President Snow has asked for your company this morning, as soon as possible."

Her eyes coldly looked to the window. A deep exhale blew past her kneecaps as she curled her legs into her chest, "Alright."

"Great, a car will be waiting for you when you're ready. Thanks a bunch."

A solid beep pierced Pandora's ears before she dropped the phone and climbed out of bed.

She felt out of sorts, unraveled.

Even after she showered and dressed Pandora had the maddened look of dishevelment.

Downstairs Yuri smiled wildly as she passed by the desk, "Good morning, Miss Sullivan!"

"Morning, Yuri," she solemnly whispered back.

"Fantastic day outside."

She continued to walk, "Is it? I didn't notice."

She pushed through the rotating doors, wiggling her sweater closer to her skin as she quickened towards the car, closed the heavy door, and heard the engine start. They were half way to Snow's office before she could catch her breath.

Not a whisper of a smile showed on her face as she marched through the building, up the stairs and to the elevators. The doors opened with a chime. As usual Elia was waiting near the desk. She pulled the phone away from her ear when she saw Pandora.

"He's waiting for you, you can walk right in."

Pandora glared at the assistant before picking her feet up and crossing her arms. A breath of air made her hair dance as the doors opened with a swoosh and swallowed her whole. Echoed footsteps trembled through the corridor into the cavernous office.

"Pandora, you're earlier than I expected."

He was sipping tea near the fire. His deceitful eyes turned into slits as a stomach churning smile formed on his lips.

Her grimace lasted seconds before she peered around, "What did you want?"

"Why the long face, my dear?"

"What do you want from me?" She repeated with a harsher edge.

"I wanted to express my concern. I was informed of the fall you took at the Opening Ceremonies."

"I slipped."

"Well it's nice to see you're still in one piece."

Slowly she started pacing, her eyes peered to him in aggravation, "Why don't we just skip the small talk."

"Pandora, it's always refreshing to talk to you. So blunt, so forward. Very refreshing for someone like me—" he smiled for a moment before glancing to the fire, "I wanted to personally invite you to a small party."

"What?"

"Every year a party is held to watch the scores be awarded to each Tribute. It's a tradition."

"And why do you want me there?"

"I thought it would be a perfect setting for an appearance from Finnick and you."

The mentioning of Finnick made her face harden. Protectively she turned towards Snow and took a step forward, "We don't need to attend any parties for you, we've already done enough."

"Is that so? You're an adult now, a young woman, Pandora. Let's not pretend like you and Finnick are pretending to be together anymore. From what I can see you two haven't been pretending for some time."

Her eyes burned as she crossed her arms and bowed her head, "Finnick is mentoring, he doesn't have time—"

"He'll be there unless he wants to break the promise he made to me nearly a year ago. You remember the deal we made don't you?"

"It's only one time."

Snow lowered his teacup. Suddenly his smile warped into an intimidating glower.

"I didn't know we were negotiating now. Is that something we do, Miss Sullivan? How easily you forget the past. I need you. I don't need Finnick Odair, he is simply a means to an end…I can easily cut that cord."

"It's just one party. Why does it matter?"

He adjusted the rose on his lapel and lifted himself to his feet. He practically glided towards her. A cloud of acrid sweetness burned her nose as he stepped forward.

"It matters, Pandora, because you seem to have forgotten your duties."

"I've done everything you asked…"

"You think I haven't kept tabs on you these two years? You must realize I'm still watching you."

"I'm no fool," she growled back.

"And yet you have the audacity to march into my office and tell me something can't be done. Perhaps it's my fault, perhaps I've been too lenient."

Slowly he rested his hand on her shoulder. It was a simple gesture but it made her hunch in cowardice, her eyes lowered to the ground.

"Dear girl, you don't understand—by doing this you're making the Capitol happy. They want to see a happy ending. They need one."

Her eyes lifted to his face, she parted her lips with a glare. Her darker side suddenly emerged and with it a tongue like a dagger.

"Go to hell."

Snow's head rose. Instant anger filled his snake eyes. His smile slowly dropped as his hand rose. Pandora didn't have time to block his hit. He slapped her across the face so hard she scream in pain and stumbled back. Instantly she tasted blood in her mouth.

Her hand lifted to her face as she peered up at him fearfully.

"Little girls should mind their tongue," he quickly said, smiling as he adjusted the cufflinks on his shirt before straightening his back.

Pandora's eyes fluttered in shock and pain, she tried to steady herself but she staggered once more.

"You—you hit me—" she stammered in disbelief.

"Yes, Pandora, I did."

Her brow furrowed as she stared at the blood on her fingertips. She felt defenseless and cornered.

"Why?"

"I realize you lost your father when you were young, dear, but here in the Capitol we respect authority."

An enraged gasp blasted from her lungs as she looked ahead and stepped back.

"You think because you've been put on a pedestal that you can keep running that mouth of yours?" He laughed darkly, returning to his cup of tea, "I'm the one who not only put you on that pedestal, I made it for you. I've done you favor after favor…even helping you."

"I didn't ask for it," her voice was still shaking.

"Because you never had to," his swollen lips smiled deviously, "I gave it to you. You never had to work for your Victory, not like your little boyfriend Finnick…No…he's a true champion. You're a fraud of my own making. I own you."

The insults were so cold and calculated that they made her feel sick. Suddenly she felt like a little girl, felt like crying from fear and hurt feelings. If he was trying to get under her skin, it was working.

"So you will make an appearance at this party. You will smile, and Finnick will be there, or maybe I'll just have Officer Pedersen take care of him."

"Adric would never do that."

"Oh?" Snow narrowed his eyes, "Look at you, defending a Capitol soldier."

She speechlessly stared at the President. Horror rattled her bones.

"You sweet innocent girl, Adric Pedersen is one of us. You think he'd ever betray his home? His military? _His father_?...you can't be that ignorant. He's not your friend. He didn't get such high decorations as an officer being anyone's friend."

Her hand grazed the back of a chair as she swiftly averted her eyes and listened to her breaths.

"So what's it going to be?"

She moved her lips silently, disguising the tremor in her voice.

"Tick-tock, Pandora."

"Okay—" her voice was barely a whisper, "I'll do it."

"Wonderful! I'm sure by now you know the way out?"

Her feet moved as fast as they could through the office, down the hall and out the door. She kept her eyes on the ground and her hand over her mouth self-consciously.

It wasn't until she was back in her apartment that she felt her knees buckle. Pain shot through her legs as her kneecaps smashed against the floor. Her hand clasped on either side of her head as tears started streaming. It sounded like she was hyperventilating, like she could breath.

Truthfully she wondered if she had died and gone to hell. Stains of blood washed away from her fingers but hey could never be washed away from her memory.

Hours passed until she heard the front door open.

She was staring at her reflection, a small cut in her lip looked back at her. Her hands slowly brushed through her hair as she caught a glimpse of Finnick in the mirror.

"Hello—"

Her eyes were red from crying, but hollowness had replaced the sadness. She was good at feeling hollow.

"Hey," he whispered, darting into the bathroom for a minute to see her.

"There's a party tonight, Caradoc thought it would be a good idea to attend."

"Tonight? I can't do that—they're announcing scores."

"It's a celebration for the scores," Pandora replied, dropping her eyes as she turned the faucet on.

A quick laugh puffed out of Finnick as he leaned in the doorway, "Some celebration."

"We don't have to go for long, just for a little…"

"Are you okay?"

Her hands wandered from the water to the mirror, she gave it a quick tug and peered into the medicine cabinet. Her eyes landed on the small white pills Mironov had given her.

"I'm fine," her voice sounded far from lighthearted, "I'm just tired."

"What are you doing?...Where did you get those pills?"

Her back was still turned to him when she snapped the bottle open and fished one out, "Mironov gave me them for my headaches."

She was just about to put it in her mouth when Finnick rushed towards her and knock it out of her hand.

"What are you doing?!" She shouted, suddenly turning to him.

"Me?! Are you kidding? You don't even know what those are."

Her eyes darkened as she took a step back, "They're for my headaches."

"I don't trust that doctor, you don't need this, got it?!"

Finnick snatched the bottle from her and poured the pills down the sink with running water. They whirled around the drain for a split second before falling into the blackness.

When he looked back at her face his eyes widened, "What is _that_?"

"What?"

"Your lip."

Her hand quickly lifted to her mouth as she closed her eyes and stepped back, "It's nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing."

"I—it's stupid—" the laugh she forced echoed through the room, "—I just fell, I leaned down to get something off the floor in the living room and I slipped and hit the table."

Finnick stared at her for a moment, she was worried he would press the matter, worried that she would break into tears again, but slowly his furrowed brow eased and his eyes peered away

"I always tell you to watch out. You're clumsy you know?"

"Yea, I know."

"Hey—" he moved towards, quickly cupping her face and his hands, "I'm glad you're okay."

She peered down as he gave her a kiss and leaned away.

"We should get ready for the party."

His green eyes drifted away. Suddenly he lowered his hand to shut the medicine cabinet, "Yea, um—I'll meet you there okay?"

"What?"

"I just—I want to be there for my Tributes when the scores are announce, you remember how scary that was."

Pandora nodded, "Of course."

"But I won't be long."

He smiled one last time, it was a smile that would have been contagious under any other circumstances but all Pandora felt was terror. Her failed attempt at a smirk looked like a grimace.

"See you soon," he whispered, brushing his lips against hers.

She held his lips for a moment before turning away, "Yea, be careful."

"You know me…"

Her gaze turned back to her reflection as she heard Finnick walk away.

The door closed.

He was gone.

Pandora's quivering breath shook her whole body. She felt empty and wrong. Her hands clutched the edge of the sink.

She was talking herself into everything that was about to happen. Making herself, forcing herself to be okay. Her eyes closed as she rocked back and forth. All she wanted was Finnick's comfort and he was too busy, too preoccupied. She felt like she was going to collapse. Over the past 3 days she had managed to begin a strange spiral, and the spiral was getting worse.

Her head spun as she ripped herself away from the mirror and wandered into her closet. She picked out the first black dress she could find and started doing her makeup.

She winced, coating dark lipstick onto her mouth and over her cut. Luckily it disguised the split in her lip well enough. Mironov had told her that when she was feeling woozy to slow down and take a breath but she couldn't. She wanted to be done with everything, to get this party over with.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the car door and slipped into the vehicle. With a jolt and rev the small journey to the President's Mansion began. Fireworks reflected in the glass of the windows, the car slowed as they entered the City Circle and pressed through crowds of people.

It stopped at the front of the mansion in prompt time. Her fur shawl kissed her neck and cheeks as she wiggled out of the car and up the marble steps. Her right hand felt naked without someone to hold it, she was so used to going to functions with Finnick that it felt off to be going alone tonight.

A few Avoxs ushered her through the glass archway and across the main hall.

When she entered the party her eyes darted around. It was a small gathering, which meant only 30 or 40 people in attendance. In her opinion it was rather large, however for someone from the Capitol it was miniscule.

A photographer snapped a picture of her as she stepped forward.

Immediately she was offered a beverage.

Her hands wrapped around the crystal stem as she picked up the champagne and tilted it to her lips.

"Alone?"

She spun around. Kol was loosening his tie.

"What are you doing lurking around?"

"I was invited to the party, if I had known you were too I would have picked you up."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He laughed lightly before getting his own glass of champagne, "And where is your knight in shining armor?"

She self-consciously rubbed her lips together, the disguised cut in her lip was still sore, "Finnick is on his way."

"Busy with extra lessons for that female Tribute of his?"

Pandora distantly stared at him, she was trying to hide her sadness but it was hard. It made Kol uncomfortable, he furrowed his brow and cleared his throat.

"I'm kidding you know? I'm not serious."

"Right," she whispered expressionlessly, noticing Adric approaching from across the room, "That's funny."

Kol's eyes narrowed in confusion as his eyes dropped to his champagne glass.

"Hey," Adric greeted, nodding to Kol and Pandora with a smile.

The only thought that popped into Pandora's head was what President Snow had said about Adric earlier. She tried to smile back, but it was as if her face were frozen in time. A burn simmered behind her eyes, the burn of held back tears.

"Some party," Kol scoffed, "I should have gone to Energy Corridor."

"I thought you got thrown out of every establishment there?" Adric quipped.

"Ha! Close to every at least…"

Pandora adjusted her shawl and tilted her glass up. This time she finished off the champagne with three large gulps. A deep exhale blew past her teeth as she glanced towards the screens.

Adric gave Kol a look before peering back to Pandora, "Is everything okay?"

She kept her eyes on the screens, "You'd think everyone would have something better to do than sit around here and stare at ridiculous scores."

Adric furrowed his brow.

"I mean don't most of these people have families?"

Kol let out a laugh, "Yea, like my parents? They hardly speak. Trust me, this is the best part of their lives."

"What Kol's trying to say, I think, is that we—don't get to pick who we marry, it's sort of just happens."

Pandora smirked as she finally looked Adric in the eye, "So what? You just marry whoever someone else picks?"

"Actually, yes."

"I don't think my parents ever fully loved each other. You can always tell though, you know…" Kol began.

"Tell what?" She inquired.

"Who loves who more."

His words grabbed her attention. She tilted her head toward him, staring with narrowed eyes of interest.

"How do you figure that?"

His blue eyes shifted to Adric, then to Pandora, "Isn't it obvious? No matter what, the person who loves their partner more will be the lonely one, the one with the least amount of power. No matter what they do, they'll be the weaker one…weaker because they love more."

Pandora's lips parted. Suddenly she lowered her glass and blinked her eyes away. All she could think about was Finnick. For some reason Kol's words were reminding her of Finnick, of her relationship with the boy with the trident from District 4.

Adric's eyes carefully observed Pandora, his lips pursed.

"It's sad really…" Kol continued, "…the person that cares more is the one that loses. That's why I feel sorry for anyone that is stupid enough to fall for any—"

"Kol…" Adric whispered.

Pandora's eyes were on the ground, she looked like she was going to cry.

But Kol continued rambling.

"I mean it's ridiculous to think—"

"Kol!"

Suddenly his words stopped. Adric stared at Pandora, he blinked his eyes uncomfortably before glancing to his friend, "Just shut up."

"I—uh—" Pandora furrowed her brow, trying to catch her breath, "I have to go."

The announcing of scores was beginning on the screen as Pandora shuffled passed the small gathering, through the columns into a small parlor room lined with mirrors. Her heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to burst. She clasped her hand to her chest and steadied herself on the way. Tears were brimming in her eyes as she leaned over and shivered.

"Pandora…"

A breeze blew into the parlor as Adric rushed in, quickly closing the door behind them.

"Go away."

"What's going on?"

She cupped her hand over her mouth, "Just leave me alone."

"Look Kol's an idiot, he doesn't know which way is up."

Her eyes stayed on the floor as she turned towards his, tears were streaming down her cheeks, "It's not Kol."

"Then what is it?"

She lifted her eyes to him cynically. Snow's words wouldn't leave her alone.

"I just want Finnick to be here."

"And that's it?"

Her hands pressed against the mirrored wall. She was staring a darker version of herself, one she had never seen before.

"He was flirting with her."

"What?"

"Finnick. I saw him—I saw him flirt with his female Tribute."

Adric took a breath in. His eyes dropped as he moved closer and rested his hand on her shoulders, "Look at me."

She shook her head, "Please, I don't need to hear it."

"Pandora, look."

She hesitated to turn around. When she finally did her eyes were distant and hurt. Adric tightened his jaw and stared down at her, "He loves you. He's with you."

"Yea?" She responded with a weak whisper, "Do you see him here?"

"Pandora—"

"It's fine," she quickly pushed him away, "I'm only—I'm just talking. I don't know what I'm saying. Just forget about it."

She didn't wait for him to respond. Her fingers gently wiped the tears away as she squeezed passed him and wandered back into the party. The scoring was almost done. Near the edge of the room a clock hung. Time was almost up.

Pandora couldn't see Snow but she knew he was in the recesses, waiting and watching.

She stared at the clock's hands. Stared as the iron laced needles inched closer and closer. It was almost as if she could hear it, the ticking matching with her heartbeat.

Her lips parted in realization.

Finnick wasn't coming.

Terror quickly followed that realization. It didn't take much for her to recall Snow's tone earlier, his threatening words left a scar inside her.

She anxiously peered around.

Somehow she needed compensate. Maybe if she acted well enough Snow wouldn't punish Finnick for his absence.

Her heart raced as she grabbed another glass of champagne and let a smile stretch on her face. If there was any time to pretend, now was it.

The clock toll just as the last score was announced.

A few of the party goers roared with laughter and cheers, others simply bantered.

Her eyes twitched to the columns. Adric was watching her. Normally she would have been embarrassed by her emotional display in the parlor room, but there was no time for her to think about her guilt and regrets.

Snow was waiting. Cameras were waiting.

She took in a breath and step forward.

"Hello!"

To her surprise the room fell silent quicker that she had expected. Eyes turned to her.

She broadened her smile.

"I know I'm only a guest here, but I just wanted to raise my glass not only to the beginning of the 70th Hunger Games, but the Capitol—a place that has become my home this past year. I know that the odds were in my favor not only when I was crowned Victor but when the citizens of the Capitol took me under their wing."

She scanned the room, shadows and all. No sign of Snow, but somehow she knew he was watching this.

Her glass lifted and her eyelashes batted.

"To the Capitol!"

Instantly the crowd cheered, with carefree laughter and drunken smiles.

"_To the Capitol!" _

Cameras flashed as each person took a sip from their glasses.

One last time before she took a sip of her champagne her eyes prowled through the faces of the party. They stopped near the edge of the room. He was standing upright like some strangely grotesque mannequin.

He too had a glass in his hand, a glass which he raised to the ceiling.

Even from where she stood she could see that his eyes were on her. Only a second past before a smile stretched across his face. President Snow took his sip of champagne with a crafty intensity, an intensity that haunted Pandora.

"Thank you, Miss Sullivan!"

She had thought that the room fell silent quickly when she asked for everyone's attention, but when Snow did it there was nothing but pure calm.

He stepped out of the shadows, a few people bowed away in respect for the President.

"A kind speech, one I think none of us will forget. It's rare that a Victor comes out of the Hunger Games with such a way with words, such a charm in their demeanor."

She tried to feign modesty, her smile shyly broadened as she nodded to Snow.

"Happy Hunger Games!"

The party raised their glasses as the President did.

Her eyes dropped as soon as the banter and laughter heightened once more. Her head hung low as she stepped into the background.

The cut in her lip stung. Behind her bright brown eyes a thousand fears swarmed. She felt the cool marble on her back. From the depths of her soul she wished more than anything that this nightmare would end. She was struggling, drowning, and the worst part was that she knew it was happening to her and couldn't do a thing.

Doom was circling her like a duet of vultures.


	24. Seven

_Seven _

"_Will we meet through the pine?_

_The leaves are green and fine."_

_Pandora eyes open. The song echoes through the darkness._

_Clouds gently glide across the full moon, the sparkling stars. _

_Her breath rises through the cold air as snow starts to fall. _

_She is standing on a platform. A platform in a train station. A heavy steel engine is waiting to be boarded. Steam billows from the top, curling into the sky and filling the large platform with low rolling fog. _

_Somehow she knows why she is here. _

_Somehow she knows who she's waiting for. _

_Her lips anxiously tighten. Her hair dances through the night as she quickens her pace to the edge. _

_A shadow lurks nearby. _

_As the shadow turns, features come into view. Features that fill her with love and equal sadness. Even in the dark the green of Finnick's eyes shine. _

_She wants to speak, she has to speak…but nothing comes out. Her lips frantically move but there is no sound. Only the wind. _

_He never responds. His eyes simply stay on her face. _

_Sudden feelings start to unearth. _

_Dread._

_Envy. _

_Doom. _

_An aftertaste of bitter agony. _

_The fog is swallowing them, growing between them. _

_In a rush she dashes towards him. Her hands are just close enough to touch him but he is dissolving. _

_Tears fill her eyes. _

_He is disappearing. _

_She gasps for air, for words but there is no sound. _

_The last thing that leaves is his eyes. _

_Then…then there's nothing. _

Her eyes fluttered open in fright. Even with the fatigue in her body she could feel blood violently coursing through her veins, heart, and brain.

Pandora grasped the sheets for a moment, parting her lips to take in air.

It was terrifying nightmare, more terrifying then all the others combined.

She slowly wiped the beads of sweat from her brow and rolled over.

Nighttime, it was still night.

Her eyes unblinkingly stared at the city lights.

From beyond the bedroom door a garble and low hum of noise was murmuring. Her hands pushed against the mattress as she peered towards the floor. A crack under the door issued light onto the wooded planks.

In confusion her brow furrowed and her head whipped to the side. The space next to her was empty.

She hesitated only for a few moments before throwing the covers off and crawling out of bed. The floor creaked as she inched forward and gently pushed the door open.

Warm light made her eyes sting.

Sweat was still on her neck and chest when she peered into the living room.

Finnick was leaning forward. The screen was on. If it wasn't for the obvious anxiety written all over his face he would have almost seemed lifeless.

Her lips dryly rubbed together as took a step into the room.

"Finnick?" she was surprised at the sound of her own voice, it sounded cracked and uneven.

He didn't turn to look at her.

"What are you doing up?"

"I'm watching…" his voice trailed off as he bit at his nails and concentrated on the screen.

Pandora sadly followed his gaze.

The 70th Hunger Games had begun with the boom of the cannon.

Only 10 children died at the cornucopia. The rest made it out.

Every eye and ear was turned to the screens, screen that couldn't be escaped. On every corner, in every establishment, in every home, screens capturing the Hunger Games attacked her eyes.

She hated that she knew details of the Games, hated that it was on right now. Her arms crossed slowly. It had been several days into the arena and Finnick had only slept a few hours.

"It's late," she finally whispered, "Why don't you come to bed?"

"No, I don't want to."

She stared at his face before blinking her eyes to the ground.

"Finnick—"

"I'm not asking you to stay up…I need to, alright?!"

He finally looked at her, but it wasn't in a pleasant way. His eyes were tired, obsessively tired.

"You can't help them from the sofa."

He gave her a glare, one that made her eyes lower. She felt her heart thumping.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know how you meant it, Pandora. It's fine."

When she looked back up he was staring at the screen again.

"It's just not good for you, to worry like this over something you can't control. I want you to be happy."

"I am…"

It was a terrible lie. Even he knew it.

"Come to bed."

"No! Just go back to sleep."

"I don't want to be alone."

"I'm right here, I'll be here if you need me."

Her hand rubbed the side of her arm, sorrow was sparkling in her eyes.

"I had another nightmare, I'm afraid."

"It's not real, don't worry, they're only dreams."

She saw his face disappearing all over again and felt her stomach drop. Quietly Pandora moved towards the sofa, he barely gave her a glance as she took a seat next to him and settled against the pillows. She cleared her throat as she placed her hand on his back and leaned into him.

Her eyes closed as she gave him a gentle kiss on his neck and then his cheek.

"I don't want to be alone," She repeated.

Finnick's eyes shifted to the floor, he nodded to her silently, placing his hand on her knee.

"I know," he whispered back.

Her brown eyes gazed at him as she leaned her head against his shoulder, "Hold me."

He took her legs and threw them over his lap as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and rested back. The side of her face was pressed against his chest, she could hear his heart.

"Have I done something wrong?" She finally whispered.

"What?"

She could feel his hand tight around her shoulder.

"You seem—upset with me."

"How could I be upset with you? You've done nothing. Maybe you're the one who's tired, huh?"

He let out a laugh but Pandora could tell he was only trying to lighten the air.

Her hand rested on his chest, "I don't like to feel distant from you, it makes me feel—not myself."

Finnick creased his brow, his hand rose to her hair, "I'll always love you, Pandora. You don't need to worry about losing me."

But she didn't believe him. It was hard for Pandora to believe that she could have anyone forever. Nothing was forever.

"Yea," she responded, "I know."

"It's not like I'm just going—"

His voice abruptly cut off. She could feel his whole body tighten. Something on the screen had grabbed his attention.

Slowly she moved her eyes to the side, to catch a glimpse of what was being shown. The image that stared back at her filled her with unexpected anger.

It was just a shot of Annie Cresta climbing up the iron ladder of a dam. The camera zoomed into her face for a few seconds.

Instantly Pandora heard Finnick's heart begin to race.

Her eyes peered away quickly. She tried to logically reason but it was hard for her to suppress the envy burning through her. She leaned away from him suddenly.

"I think—I'm going for a walk."

He stared at her with surprise, "Wait, what? It's night."

She briefly glanced to Annie on the screen and then to her hands, "I just want fresh air."

"Just wait—I'll come with you."

"No," the smile she gave him was painful, "Don't bother. I know how much you want to make sure they're alright…"

"Are you sure?"

She climbed off the sofa and started walking with a nod. As quickly as she could she threw on clothes and shoes. She didn't bother saying bye to Finnick because she knew he would only half-hear her.

When she finally made it down the elevator and out of the front doors she stopped.

There was nowhere for her to go. It was the middle of the night.

She bit at her lips and glanced around the street, suddenly feeling more alone than ever. Without thinking she started moving. Her feet pattered against the white sidewalk, down long stretches of roads. From time to time she would look up to see a screen depicting the Games, each time she would swiftly snap her eyes away.

She walked for miles, and still her feet didn't hurt, still she wasn't tired. It wasn't until she stopped wandering that she realized where she was.

Her eyes lifted high into the sky.

Her lips parted.

Before her was the Panem Special Operations building. The lobby was still lit. She stared through the windows into the foyer, sadly panting for air as she wrestled with her sweater and feelings.

Her eyes narrowed as she started up the steps. The doors opened immediately, as if it were broad daylight.

A concierge stared at her in disbelief as she approached the desk.

"Miss Sullivan?"

She hated that he used her name and didn't even know her.

"It's the dead of night, what are you doing here?"

"I need to see, Viktor Mironov."

"It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm asking to see Dr. Mironov. I know he works here during nights sometime."

"Now?!"

Her eyebrow arched, "Yes."

The concierge shook his head, his hand searched for the phone. As he lifted it to his ear a slew of obscenities mumbled past his lips. Pandora pretended to ignore him, her face turned to the side as she leaned against the high white desk.

When he finally hung up, he cleared his throat and snobbishly scowled at her, "He says he'll be right down."

"Thank you," she coldly replied, immediately walking into the middle of the foyer and cupping her hands together.

She waited for several minutes before a single pair of limped footsteps echoed. As she turned around she scratched at her head and fluttered her eyes anxiously. Mironov had a worried look on his face. He was moving towards her slowly, his bad knee slowed him down quite a bit. When he was close enough he peered past his glasses and spoke.

"What are you doing here? Is there trouble?"

"I need to talk."

"About?"

She clenched her jaw and struggled for coherent thoughts, "I just—need to talk."

Mironov studied her for a moment.

"Alright, Pandora, come with me."

Silently she followed him.

She was expecting him to take her into his office. Instead they were heading to another part of the building. Her eyes darted around suspiciously as she walked side by side with Mironov.

As usual they had past the corridor of windows that showed several labs but when they neared his office door they turned right down another corridor. Doors with small windows lined the walls.

They were heading towards the door at the end marked RESTRICTED.

Mironov glanced at her before typing a code in and pushing the door open.

"What is this?"

He smiled and tapped the label to the right of the door. "Laboratory 15," he read.

"Don't be shy," he quickly continued, "Follow me."

Pandora peered back down the hall before following Mironov. The door shut with a click and her feet stopped.

The room was very white. White that seemed to glow.

Along one side of the wall cabinets full of test tubes rested, but that's not what caught her attention.

Her eyes abruptly moved to the opposite side of the room. Cages of various animals were covering the wall. All kinds of animals. She clenched her jaw and glanced to Mironov. He was sitting at one of the tables, next to him was a cage though she couldn't see what it contained.

"What's with the animals?"

Mironov swooshed a beaker full of serum in his hand while he lifted his eyes to Pandora, "This is where they come before we test them."

Her lips curled in disgust, "You mean turn them into muttations?"

"Into what?"

Pandora suddenly felt sick, "You make hybrids."

"Yes, I'm sure you're familiar with a few of them. Tracker Jackers, Mockingjays…"

"Sonar eels?"

His eyes dropped suddenly. "Yes—" he hesitated, "Yes them too."

"Have you brought me here to turn me into one of your lab experiments?" She quickly quipped, though her eyes and face looked rigid.

Mironov smiled, he pressed a dollop of serum onto a slide and placed it under a microscope, "Hardly. You happened to interrupt an experiment I was working on."

"Shouldn't this be top secret? Why are you letting me in here?"

"I'm letting you in here, Pandora, because you said you wanted to talk. And as far as the top secret experiments go this is not one of them. So feel free to take notes."

She smirked despite the tension and fear.

Her footsteps seemed to stir a few of the caged animals, but the noises quickly died down as she took a seat across from Mironov.

"Why are you here in the middle of the night?"

"A strange question to ask considering that you're here as well…"

"I just mean—" her eyes studied the slide on the microscope, "—Don't you ever sleep? Are you a robot or something?"

Again Mironov grinned, "No, Pandora."

"Don't you have a home?"

"I do."

"Then why aren't you there? I would think you'd want a life outside all this."

His smile quickly dropped, even though his eyes were on the lens of the microscope Pandora could see them darken.

"I don't have a family anymore, I have nothing to go home to. This is my life, Pandora."

He lifted his eyes to her face. His gaze lingered on her until she looked away in embarrassment. It wasn't a response she had expected.

"So what was it that bothered you so much that you needed to walk all the way here in the middle of the night?"

"Did you love your wife?"

"You came here to talk about my family?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, watching him work as he spoke, "It's just that you know about me, and I don't know anything really about you."

"Because it's my job."

"I know it's none of my business…"

He sighed slowly, leaning away from the microscope for a moment, "It's fine."

Nervously she twirled a thread that was loosely hanging from her sweater. Her foot tapped against the bar of the stool.

"To answer your question…of course I loved my wife."

She looked up.

"Why?"

He scratched at his beard and smiled, "That's a complicated question. I suppose I loved her because she was everything I wasn't and at the same time she was so much that I wanted to be. I couldn't live without her, it wasn't like I needed her—that wouldn't describe the emotion—it was that when I met her I realized that a part of me had always been missing."

Pandora's sad eyes glimmered as she let herself smile, "So you _really_ loved her."

Mironov laughed, "Yes. Pandora…why did you really come here?"

She turned her face and shrugged, "I guess I didn't have anywhere else to go."

He waited for her to look at him before smiling. It wasn't a happy smile, not by a long shot. It was solemnly empathetic. Pandora parted her lips and blinked her eyes, she felt like crying and yet she knew she couldn't.

"You have Finnick."

Finally she looked away. Her eyes were getting watery.

"Don't you?"

"I used to think I'd grow up and get married to someone from home. That's what people do isn't it? You have a family, you have a mother and father…then you become a mother or father when you're older. I used to think I'd live in District 7 forever…"

Tears trickled down her face, but her voice was so distant, so eerily calm.

"And now all those thoughts are just…they're gone. Everything is gone. I'm so afraid that I'll wake up one day hollow, empty and rotten. I had a nightmare earlier, it was different then any other I've had before. I was searching for Finnick but he wasn't searching for me, and when I found him he disappeared in front of my eyes. When I woke up I felt like puking, I felt helpless…and then I realized something."

She pursed her lips and tilted her head up.

"For so long I blamed all my losses on the Capitol, but you see…it's not the truth. I think some people are just meant to be alone, and no one will fill that emptiness because they can't. The gap is too big, the emptiness somehow is too full of hate and regret to ever be filled with love."

Mironov let the quiet settle between them. He rested his elbows on the table's surface, his blue eyes watched her, and then slowly he reached out his hand and placed it over hers. His wrinkled skin warmly rubbed her knuckles.

"Love isn't about diminishing the fire of hate, Pandora, it's not about fixing things. Love isn't medicine. It's one of the strongest powers in the universe and you want to know why?"

She silently met his eyes.

"Because at the end of all things, when there is no hope, it's there. Even the cruelest of human beings has experienced it. The world could fall to ashes and still there's that glimmer, a glimmer worth fighting for. Love should never make you feel empty, not if it's shared. That's not real love, Pandora."

She sniffed and wiped her tears away shyly, "I didn't realize you were a poet."

He smirked and gave her hand a pat, "I'm many things. Come over here."

"Why?"

His hand moved toward the cage on the table, "Just come over here."

She cautiously wandered around the table, stopping next to Mironov. It was only then that she could see the inside of the cage.

Mironov slowly opened it. His hands sensibly crept inside. Suddenly Pandora could hear yipping.

Her eyes narrowed. It was hard to see inside, the cage was so dark, but as Mironov's hands retracted she stepped back.

"Don't be scared, he won't hurt you."

She stared at it quizzically. It looked like a wolf pup but not quite. Something about it was different. Another yip sounded from the pup as Mironov brought it to his chest and cradled it.

"This is the newest addition," he whispered, "You can pet him if you want."

Pandora swallowed loudly. Her hand carefully moved towards the wolf, her fingers relaxed as she pet his soft fur. He had bright blue eyes, eyes that looked similar to a human's. A very familiar blue.

"His eyes…"

Mironov slowly looked up. Her gaze twitched from the doctor to the wolf, her lips parted.

"He has your eyes?!"

"Don't be scared…"

"H—how?"

"I've found a way to mix human DNA with wolf…it makes them smarter, more adaptable, and it had an interesting physical outcome. You see? Everything about him is a wolf but his eyes look human. This is only the first test run. I used my own DNA on this one, he was the only one that survived out of the bunch. Test Subject Seven."

Pandora eased back towards the wolf. She studied his black and white fur markings, his human-like blue eyes that widely gazed at her. When her hand rested back on the pup he licked her. A slow smile formed on her face.

"Seven…" she whispered.

"He's strong. He'll be big too."

Her smile widened as she ran her finger along his snout and ears.

"You want to hold him?"

"Can I?"

Mironov smirked, offering her the wolf pup. Pandora stared into its eyes before wrapping her hands around it and holding it close to her face. She watched as it sniffed at her hair and neck and whimpered.

"He likes you."

"You think?" she eagerly asked, peering down at the pup.

"Oh yes, normally he's aggressive around anyone but me, he bit one of the lab workers the other day, gave him a nasty wound."

Pandora smiled again, her eyes scanned the wolf's face as she pet his neck and back. He was still small but she could tell from the size of his paws that Mironov was right, he was going to be big. Slowly the wolf reached its paw up to her face, the gesture made her eyes widen.

"He's beautiful."

Mironov observed her smile and nodded, "Yes, and after I'm done with this sample I'll be able to recreate the factors that allowed him to live, allowed the human DNA to meld with the wolf DNA, maybe then I can perfect it."

She laughed as the wolf licked her face and howled.

"You see?" He added slowly, "It's not all bad, some experiments work out for the best."

But Mironov smile faded. He had to look away because of the thoughts that suddenly started coursing through his brain, the plans and strategies that President Snow had coerced and forced the doctor into. Pandora was too preoccupied to notice.

He pulled his glasses off, when he finally looked back. For a moment he just watched them. A sad smile lingered on his bearded lips.

"Do you want him?"

Pandora shifted her eyes to Mironov in shock, "What?"  
"He can keep you company."

"I thought you needed him to help recreate the right variables?"

"I just did," he replied, pointing to the test tubes and microscope, "And if I need more blood I can just have you bring him in, that is if you want him?"

Pandora unblinking stared at Mironov, she moved her lips but nothing came out. When she dropped her eyes to the wolf's face she felt a sudden need to keep it close to her, "Yes…I would."

"Good," he smiled, "Any ideas for a name?"

She cradled the wolf close to her chest and smiled thoughtfully, "Yea…yea, I think I'll call him Seven."


	25. Tear You Apart

_Tear You Apart_

Drunken fervor and fierce cheers filled the streets of the Capitol.

Mid-arena.

Only 7 Tributes remained.

Finnick watched with anticipation, his eyes never left the screen. Black circles orbited his lower lids.

Near Pandora's feet Seven rested. His furry chin relaxed on her toes, his blue eyes stared on Finnick watchfully. Bringing the wolf home didn't bare the best of results. Finnick not only voiced his disgust with Pandora's new pet, he hated it.

His green irises briefly glanced to Seven and narrowed.

"Tell your dog to stop staring at me."

Pandora dropped her eyes from the screen and peered at Seven, "He's just curious."

"He's staring."

"It's just a dog, Finnick."

Her hand lowered to Seven's head, she gave his ears a scratch before leaning back.

Finnick angrily clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to the screen just in time to see Caesar Flickerman appear in the corner.

"_It looks like things are starting to heat up…" _

Finnick straightened his posture.

The Careers were in the center of a clearing. In the distance was the dam and surrounding forest. 7 Tributes were still alive, 5 of them were Careers. Both Tributes from District 4 and 1, and the female of District 2. But this gathering wasn't why Caesar thought things were about to heat up.

Pandora furrowed her brow.

The Tributes were bickering, the male tribute form 4 was having an altercation with the male of 1.

She felt Finnick's hand shake in fear, he leaned closer, "They need to get out there."

Pandora speechlessly stared.

Annie Cresta was shying away from the huddle, Pandora put herself in Annie's position. If she were in the arena right now she would have made a run for it, but Annie wasn't moving. She looked petrified.

"What is he doing!? He's picking a fight he won't win."

The male Tribute from District 1 had an axe in his hands, it gleamed as he gave District 4 a shove.

"Oh my god," Pandora whispered, she wanted to look away but couldn't.

"No…" Finnick, grabbed his head, his whole body was shaking, "They need to run. Run, Annie…"

Pandora's breath stopped. She corner-eyed Finnick. She didn't like him using her name.

The first punch thrown was District 4, but it was the only one he was able to throw. District 1 sent him flying, his female counterpart grabbed District 4's hands and pinned him to the ground.

Cameras panned to Annie, she was on the ground. Her green eyes were wide with terror, unblinkingly wide.

Pandora felt the blood suddenly rush out of her face as snickers from the Career Tributes sounded.

"Turn it off," she whispered, cradling her head, "I—we—it's too much, turn it off!"

Seven urgently perked up to his master's worried shouts, a low whimper murmured from him as he looked to Pandora.

But Finnick didn't move. He was breathing so loud.

Just as the axe came down and blood spew out Pandora cupped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.

Annie's screams echoed.

Pandora could feel Finnick lurch forward in a frenzy as the cannon boomed.

"No…" his voice was broken and beaten, "She has to move!"

"I can't watch this," Pandora responded, struggling to find her footing as she moved off the sofa towards the kitchen.

"_It's looks like we have a runner, Claudius."_

Caesar's voice broke through the tension.

"_The District 4 Tribute, Annie Cresta, is moving fast with the other Tributes hot on her heels." _

Claudius responded.

Pandora peered over her shoulder, Annie was crying, there was a madness in her eyes as she broke through the trees and low thickets.

"Finnick, please turn it off."

Again he didn't respond.

He was so engrossed, too swallowed in the Games that he refused to look away. His teeth chattered against his nails as balled his hands into fists and shook his head in terror.

"C'mon, move…keep going!"

He winced as Annie fell to ground, parting his lips as she picked herself up again.

Pandora felt Seven brush against her leg as she twitched her eyes between Finnick and the screen. Her expression was a mixture of sadness and sickness, in her eyes a faint spark of envy swirled. She rubbed her temple, silently trying to subdue the irrational emotions heightening inside.

It would be bad to wish any young girl death, but in that dark moment her bad side suddenly shown through. She wanted Annie to die, it would be so much easier that way. She wished she would die.

Instant disgust made her gasp and turn away.

She curled her hands around the counter and steadied her breath. She was disturbed by her own thoughts, irrational and evil thoughts.

"_I can't believe it! It looks like she's tricked them. Annie Cresta is still alive, they completely bypassed her!" _

Pandora didn't have to look at Finnick to know the smile that was on his face. A smile of relief.

She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her hands still clawed at the counter, "Turn it off."

Finally he looked her way. "What?"

She spun around and clenched her jaw, "Turn it off!"

"Pandora—I can't—what if something happens."

Her nostrils flared as she practically sprinted to the thin remote. She snatched it and pursed her lips angrily before pressing the button.

"What the hell?!"

Her feet moved backwards as she darkly looked into Finnick's eyes and tightened her grip around the remote.

"I think I've seen enough death for today."

"Give me that," She could tell he was irritated but she didn't care.

When he tried to reach for the remote she took another step back.

"No, this is enough."

"I'm their mentor! I need to watch!"

"No, you want to watch, you don't need to!" She growled.

"How would you know?"

"I know that it won't help to watch, to fret over every spill of blood and lifeless kid."

Finnick glared at her, "You wouldn't know, you've never been a mentor. You don't even have a clue!"

His harsh words fueled her agitation, "I'm not watching anymore!"

"You're being ridiculous."

She mashed her lips together and took in a breath, "Since when do we support the Games, I didn't think you endorsed watching death matches, at least you didn't used to!"

"Seriously? This coming from the person who goes on camera to support the Hunger Games. You're telling me that my watching the games because I'm worried is wrong?!"

She narrowed her eyes, her head was hunched. Her lips parted in offense.

"You know I don't have a choice doing that!"

"Do I?! You seem to like it."

Silence.

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be."

Raw breaths passed her teeth, "What's the matter with you?"

"I need to make sure she's okay."

His eyes maddeningly twitched to the remote.

Pandora let out an insulted laugh, more like a breath. She blinked her eyes away and nodded.

"Just give that to me!" He roared.

She staggered back in surprise. Finnick's angry shouts suddenly upset Seven.

Instantly the wolf got in between the two of them. A snarl sounded through his fangs as he stared at Finnick. Its back wildly arched in defense.

"Get that muttation away from me!"

Another snarl, more agitated than the first.

Pandora fearfully lowered her gaze to Seven.

"Woah," she knelt to the wolf's side and slowly pet his neck and back, "It's okay."

But another growl hissed from the wolf. His blue eyes were locked on Finnick. Apparently he didn't like the way he spoke to Pandora.

"Shh—" she whispered, "It's okay."

"Why do you even have that thing? It's just another cruelty of the Capitol."

Her brow furrowed as she peered up to Finnick, "He's not bad, he's just a wolf."

"He's a muttation!"

Seven snapped his teeth at Finnick harshly.

"See? He's nothing but an animal."

"You're scaring him."

"Yea, right. That thing was made in the labs, it's not scared of anything. It's probably waiting for a chance to rip out your jugular."

Pandora felt like crying. Her lips closed as she glanced to the floor and tried to regain composure. Her breaths quivered as she held out the remote. She couldn't look at Finnick. She tossed it to him quickly and whistled for Seven to follow as she made her way to the door and grabbed the leather leash Mironov had given her.

"What are you doing!?"

"I'm going on a walk."

"Pandora—"

She snapped the leash around Seven's neck and spun around, "Don't you apologize to me, not right now."

Finnick lifted his hands, "Don't leave."

She arched her eyebrow, "As long as that screen is on I won't stay here for another minute, you hear me? I have seen enough death to last a lifetime, I don't need to watch it for fun!"

She held back the true reasons for her departure. Sure she was disgusted by the arena, by the violence, but more than that she was disgusted with Finnick's preoccupation with Annie. Of course she was his mentee but after everything that had happened over the past weeks it felt like more than that. With every sleepless night Finnick had, every nightmare it was hard to imagine that Annie wasn't a partial cause of those.

Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Finnick dreaming of Annie, even if it was a nightmare she was jealous.

Never had they had a fight that bad, and over something as inconsequential as that. But it was the things that lay beneath the surface, the unsaid things. That was the cause of the fight. That was the cause of Pandora's dismay and fears. The larger problems lurking beneath the surface. It clung to her like a damp blanket.

Seven led the way but made sure to keep close to Pandora's side as she strode down the walkways.

Everyone was celebrating.

It wouldn't be long before the finale to the 70th Hunger Games, minutes even.

Her lips sadly pursed.

There was no doubt in her mind that by tonight they would be over, a Victor would be crowned, celebrations held.

Her head was spinning. Her pale cheeks felt the lash of the wind as she sauntered blindly through the streets.

Droplets of rain started to fall, but she barely noticed them.

Her eyes slowly glanced around the streets, her frown looked devastating.

She walked for a long while, without any sense of time. The only thing she kept an eye on was the sun, which slowly fell behind buildings and mountains. Orange light horizontally melted across the Capitol. It would be evening shortly.

"_Oh my god!"_ She heard someone shout.

Her feet froze.

Suddenly a chorus of applause and gasps rattled her.

A group of people were clustered around public screens.

A rumble of crashes suddenly followed. She widened her eyes and stumbled backward. It took her a moment to realize that the noises weren't coming from around her but from the screens.

Something was happening in the arena.

Without thinking she grabbed the leash and started running towards the cluster. She had pushed past a few people before she stood on her toes to see the video of the arena.

Her eyes froze.

She couldn't even gasp.

The dam in the arena had broke. Water was rushing through the forest, through the clearing. It was wiping everything away. Tributes were drowning, unable to swim. Even the Tributes that could swim struggled against the crashing waves and currents.

"Look!" A child shouted in excitement.

Pandora saw what the child was pointing to before he spoke. Annie Cresta was swimming against the current. Her arms weren't struggling with the water, they were moving with it. She was heading towards one of the only dry parts left and she was making it look easy. Her hair clung to her face, her shoulders sliced through the water.

Cannon started sounding.

2, then 3.

Pandora's whole body shook.

There was still one more Tribute left, but she knew what was about to happen.

Her feet lifelessly staggered away from the screens. Her eyes unblinkingly looked to the ground. She had just crossed the street when the final cannon boomed.

Almost as if on cue the Capitol erupted with glee and overwhelming cheers. It surrounded Pandora, her head ached.

She leaned against the corner of a building, trying to reason with herself, trying to wake herself up.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage as she suddenly broke into a run.

"_Ladies and Gentleman! Your Victor of the 70__th__ Hunger Games…Annie Cresta!" _

Caesar Flickerman excitedly announced.

In eerie unison all of the Capitol started chanted Annie's name.

Pandora's brown eyes finally showed a tinge of life in them as her feet pounded against the pavement.

She wasn't going back to the apartment, no…she knew that Finnick wouldn't be there. Her eyes twitched around as she darted down alleyways, cutting across the crowded streets.

She was heading towards the infirmary, that's where Finnick would be.

It was pure chaos. Not only were there mobs chanting and cheering, but peacekeepers and soldiers.

Her pace slowed as she turned the corner and caught sight of the infirmary. It was a large building, monumental even.

Already soldiers lined the perimeter.

A roaring sound echoed across the sky.

A jet zoomed overhead. Pandora paused, swallowing her nerves.

It landed on the flat top of the infirmary. Annie would be in that. She pushed her bracelet up her arm and pulled on the leash.

At the entrance she struggled to push through the crowd.

A peacekeeper stopped her before she could get by.

"You're not allowed in."

"Yes, I am."

He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her back, "Show me you're identification then, I'll be needing one for that dog too."

Pandora narrowed her eyes and proudly tilted her chin up, "My name is Pandora Sullivan. I am the Victor of the 68th Hunger Games and a friend of Viktor Mironov's. I've probably killed more people than you can count, and I'm ordained by the President himself to go where I please. Is that a good enough identification for you?"

She had no idea where this sudden confidence had come from, but she wasn't about to budge.

The peacekeeper's face reddened with anger.

"I suggest you get your hands off me."

From beyond the doors a familiar face peered out.

Adric let a few seconds pass before he exited the building and kept his eyes on Pandora. He was only a few feet away when he spoke.

"I'll take her."

The peacekeeper whipped around in surprise.

"Pandora, is that alright with you?"

She gave the peacekeeper a severe look before turning back to Adric, "That'll be just fine, Officer."

He reached for her wrist and nodded, "Alright, follow me."

She gave the leash a quick tug, seeing Seven trot by the line of peacekeepers before she looked ahead again.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was out walking my dog…"

"You were what?!" Adric dropped his eyes in surprise and shook his head, "How did you get that wolf?"

"Long story."

"I'm sure," he quipped.

Pandora urgently glanced around as doctors bustled around the hallways, "Is Finnick here?"

"He arrive just before you, he was ushered into the waiting room."

Her lips anxiously curled, "Good."

Doctor's angrily blinked to the wolf and stumbled back as they marched through the infirmary. A few rubbed their eyes in disbelief.

They had just reached the waiting room when Pandora saw Finnick. Her lips started moving as she shoved through the doors and stopped.

"Finnick…"

"Pandora, what are you doing here?!"

She broke away from Adric and slowly walked up to him, "I wanted to be here for you."

Finnick stared at her, his eyes looked sad but he smiled still. She could tell how sorry he was, see the apology in his eyes.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Hey! You can't have that thing in here!" A passing doctor suddenly shouted, pointing to Seven.

Pandora protectively wrapped the leash around her hand, "He's not going to do anything."

"It's not sanitary, you need to get him out of here!"

Adric quickly stepped forward, "He's right. It's hazardous. I'll take him."

Pandora hesitantly glanced between Adric and the grumpy doctor.

Adric's eyebrows arched, "Don't worry, I'll give him back."

She leaned into Finnick and rubbed her lips together. Quietly she nodded and extended the leash to Adric. He smiled as he took it, nodding to Finnick and tipping his hat.

"Congratulations, Mr. Odair."

Finnick stared at him coldly, "Thank you."

He winked to Pandora and patted her on her shoulder kindly before pulling Seven away. The doctor quickly followed.

The door swung closed. It was just Pandora and Finnick.

"He's always around isn't he?" Finnick slowly whispered, returning to his seat.

"What?"

"That soldier."

Pandora watched him for a moment before taking a seat next to him. Her fingers rubbed against her brow as she rested her elbows on her knees, "I don't know."

"Are you friends with him?"

"No," her answer was short and quick.

"He certainly bends over backwards to help someone he's not friends with."

Pandora kept her eyes on the doors, she picked her fingernails and slumped into the seat, "Has anyone come out to tell you what's going on?"

"Not yet, I don't know how bad the injuries are."

Despite her own issues, her own fears, Pandora silently moved her hand to Finnick's. She stroked his fingers against hers, "It'll be alright."

"Yea," his fingers tightened around hers, "I hope…"

With a side-glance she could see Finnick's eyes watering. His hand was sweaty. He looked like he was going to be sick.

She grimaced, pretending not to notice.

They sat in the waiting for hours before someone entered the room. Though he wore a surgical mask, Pandora noticed him right away.

Mironov wiggled the mask away from his beard.

"Hi," he managed, nodding to both Pandora and Finnick.

"How is she?" Finnick asked.

Pandora felt his hand slip away.

"She's good, apart from some water in her lungs and a few fractures and bruises she hasn't sustained that many injuries, at least not as bad as I've seen before…" Mironov looked to Pandora.

She remembered the state she was in after the arena, she would have died within minutes of being plucked out of the arena if it hadn't been for the Capitol's advanced technology.

"That's good," Finnick breathlessly mumbled, "So everything is okay?"

"Um—not exactly. What I'm about to tell you a very complicated subject."

Pandora furrowed her brow.

"Annie had to deal with a lot of trauma in the arena, which as I'm sure you both know is very common, but she's showing signs of post traumatic stress syndrome."

"What!?"

Pandora shifted her gaze to Finnick. He looked devastated.

"How—how do you know it's not—just because it's only been a few hours. I mean—you can't know that right away!"

Mironov calmly nodded, "Yes, that's true, however her reactions aren't characterized by the common fits. I've known Victors fresh out of the arena to think they're still fighting, to cry out for people they've lost, but Annie's fits aren't like those. Now I'm not saying this is completely accurate, time will tell, but it seems that what we're dealing with is a loss of sanity."

"I want to see her!"

Suddenly Finnick was on his feet.

"Mr. Odair, she needs time to heal, it's going to be a few days!"

"No! I want to see her right now!"

Pandora's eyes widely stared up at Finnick. He was so out of sort, so crazed. He looked like he was on the brink of a mental breakdown himself.

She reached out to grab his hand but he swatted her away and stepped forward.

"I need to see her."

Mironov looked to Pandora and then to Finnick. He cleared his throat in irritation, "Alright—you can see her, she won't recognize you right now, she's still out of it. She probably won't be conscious."

"It's fine—I just—I need to see her."

Mironov nodded.

Pandora slowly brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and stood up, "I'll come with you."

"No!—I mean—don't worry about it, okay?"

She parted her lips in shock, her eyes glanced to Mironov before they completely dropped to the floor.

Pandora watched Mironov lead Finnick through the doors. Rain trickled against the window in the waiting room. Her eyes were full of confusion and hurt. She was thinking about the day she found Finnick on the roof, it was the first real conversation they had exchanged with one another, one that left a mark on her soul.

They hadn't had a real conversation since he left for the Reaping. They hadn't been the same since then.

Suddenly she felt like an old pair of shoes, dirtied and ripped. She felt unwanted.

Her uneven breaths matched the erratic beating of her heart. She leaned her head back and tried to stop the sting of tears.


	26. The Flame That Singed The Moth's Wings

_The Flame That Singed The Moth's Wings_

The apartment was dark. Only a single light flickered near the windows. Shadows fell over Pandora's face. She was staring out of the windows, her legs sloppily settled on the floor, her back against the small cove.

The window closest to her was opened slightly. A warm breeze blew in, stirring her hair and sweater. Fireworks blasted, people cheered. It hurt her brain, but it was constant. There was nothing to save her from the shouts, from the screams.

A glossy drunkenness lingered in her eyes.

Groggily she parted her lips and rested her head against the wall. Her fingers curled around the bottle's neck just before she took a swig of the vile liquid and winced.

A week had passed.

She furrowed her brow, pressing her fingertips against her head.

Or maybe it was more…or less…

Pandora couldn't distinguish the time, not anymore.

She hadn't seen Finnick but for a few minutes since Annie Cresta survived the arena. He didn't bother coming home, he was too busy, too preoccupied. Her jaw clenched as she thought of the cold space on his side of the bed, the empty apartment.

Annie had been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In layman's terms she was clinically mad. Mironov told Finnick that the only thing he could figure was that seeing her male counterpart getting his head sliced off was the catalyst.

Finnick cried at the news.

Disgust rose in her stomach as she recalled his tears.

In the distance she heard knocks on the doors, but the fogginess of alcohol dulled her senses. Instead of responding she took another gulp and stared out the window.

More knocks.

"Go away!"

There was only a brief silence before she heard the front door swoosh open. Hallway lights spilled into the apartment.

Her eyes darkened as she turned her face to the side.

"How the hell did you get in?"

Adric studied her drunken state and sadly put his hand in his trouser pockets, "I know how to bypass the security system."

"Aren't you clever."

"Haven't seen you around in a few days…" his boots thumped against the floor as he moved around the sofa, "Thought you might have died."

She lifted the bottle of booze up and glared, "Maybe I have."

"You're drunk."

"Look at you…all observant. Is that how you got those pretty little medals?"

"You're going to make yourself sick drinking that."

From the darkness Seven's eyes glinted, he let out a growl as Adric knelt next to Pandora. Unfazed Adric twitched his eyes to the wolf and stared, it took a split second but Seven soon settled back into the darkness.

"Let me help you up."

"I don't need help…" she mumbled, refusing his hand as she tried to find her footing. Somehow she managed to fall and stand up at the same time, her feet drunkenly staggered in place for a moment before she caught her breath.

"You should come to the Closing Interviews."

The laugh came out very cruel as she pushed him aside and found her place on the sofa, "Should I? I don't know—I don't think this would look good for my public image."

"You mean if you drunkenly toppled over a crowd of people? Who knows. Maybe it would increase your popularity…."

When she licked her lips she could taste the alcohol, "I'm not going anywhere."

Adric narrowed his eyes, "How much alcohol have you had?"

"I lost count."

He grabbed the bottle away from her quickly.

"Hey!"

His hands fumbled on the floor until he found the cap and screwed it on.

"That's mine…" she stammered.

"Not anymore. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm enjoying the evening. Happy Hunger Games!"

"Don't patronize me."

Her eyes gravely turned to the windows.

"This is about Finnick?"

"No…this is about my pathetic life."  
He arched his eyebrows, clenching his jaw as he gazed down at her. She hated the sudden silence. Her brown eyes slowly shifted to the floor as she hunched over and groaned.

"Why are you here, Adric?"

"Mironov thought I should check up on you."

"Wonderful."

"Yes, it is. You know he thought that maybe you were upset about seeing another person in the state that the Victor was in, but something tells me that isn't it."

She let the quiet sink in once more. Her fingers lazily traced the seam of her pants, her eyes refused to look to Adric.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yea…I can see that. Look—I'll leave you alone, I see you want that, but before I go I just have one thing to say, you got it?"

"I'm not a child, Adric. You may be an officer but you're only a few years older than me, don't use that overbearing tone."

He ignored the bite to her words and scanned her face.

"Finnick loves you."

"C'mon, I don't need this…"

"Hey, listen!"

A low growl sounded from the darkness where Seven rested, Pandora darkly grimaced. Adric ignored both of their complaints.

"He does. I know it, I can tell. You of all people do not need to be jealous, or worry."

"Me of all people?"

"Yes, Pandora, you of all people. You know why?"

"Enlighten me!" She angrily snarled.

"Because you are unique and clever. And I can't imagine any man falling in love with you and being able to recover from that."

Her glare softened but only slightly. She blinked her eyes away and parted her lips, "Are you done?"

Adric sighed in frustration and tightened the screw around the bottle, "Yea—yea I'm done."

She kept her eyes on the floor.

"Then get the hell out of my apartment."

"Real nice, Pandora, keep that up. It's real charming."

Her nails dug into the cushions and her eyes drunkenly shifted to Adric. He stubbornly glared at her for a few seconds before marching past with the bottle in his hand.

"I'm taking this with me," he whispered, opening the door before he looked back as Pandora's shadow figure.

His fingers nervously tapped against the doorframe, and then he was gone.

Pandora's eyes shut as soon as she heard the door close.

She sat there for a moment, frozen and stiffened by drinking too much. A warmth swirled in her stomach, making her feel slightly sick but mostly dizzy.

After several heartbeats she lifted her eyes to the mantel. The clock's hands inched forward slowly. The Closing Interviews were starting.

A current of despair swallowed her.

She dropped her head to the armrest of the sofa. Her hands cradle a pillow as she pursed her lips and curled in a ball.

In between listening to the fireworks explode and thinking of Finnick's face she quietly dozed off. Aided by alcohol and fatigue she plummeted into a deep slumber.

The first thing she felt when she awoke was the intense sense that she was going to throw up. Her eyes opened only to shut in reply to the bright sunlight. It burnt her vision, creating black splotches.

The faint taste of alcohol was still on her breath as she glanced around the apartment and collected her thoughts.

Everything was as she left it the night before. She only had a faint recollection of Adric stopping by but her head was too foggy to gather any real memories.

Seven howl quietly as he watched his master climb to her feet. His tail wagged with another howl.

She had trouble making it to the bathroom, her feet seemed disjointed from the rest of her body. A splitting headache made her eyes widened in pain.

Out of habit she opened the medicine cabinet, her fingers searched for the bottle of pills Mironov had given her. It took her several minutes to remember that Finnick had thrown them out.

Inside, a stream of curse words garbled. Her fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. She wondered how it was possible to feel like you were on the brink of puking your liver up, your brain exploding, and your feet giving out all at the same time.

The shower helped a little. The hot water scorched her skin and fogged up the mirrors and glass. By the time she grabbed for a towel the whole bathroom looked like a sauna.

Redness lingered at the corners of her eyes as she pulled on clothing.

She had slept through the entire day.

The sun was already setting when she returned the main area to grab a glass of water and slice of bread.

Slowly the pieces of last night were falling into place, though it was still a little unclear. She mulled over Adric's words, grimacing at the way she crudely spoke and displayed her repressed rage. She didn't like the person inside, the darker side of herself.

Pandora was just on the periphery of completely hating herself when she heard footsteps moving down the corridor outside.

The doors opened with a chime, she turned in surprise lowering her glass of water.

"Finnick…"

He hadn't been in the apartment for days, not since Annie won. He had been sleeping in the infirmary. Pandora only saw him when she traveled there, it was shocking to see him standing in the entryway. Her eyes studied his face silently.

His expression was strange. She couldn't place it.

"Hey, Pandora."

"How was the Closing Interview?"

The floorboards creaked as he moved through the dining room into the living room. Pandora slowly followed, hoping that he couldn't smell alcohol or shame.

"She did well, better than I thought. I was surprised."

"Good…"

He kept his back turned to her but she could tell he was looking out of the wall of windows. The sun was almost fully set. It made Pandora feel guilty for sleeping off the entire day.

"I—um—sorry I haven't been around. I was worried."

"I know, I understand."

She watched his head bow.

The air in the apartment was becoming stifling. Suddenly she didn't feel nauseous from her hangover, she felt nauseous from anticipation.

When he finally turned back around his hand was over his mouth, his eyes twitched to her face, "We need to talk."

Her feet shuffled forward. Her eyes cautiously stayed on his face.

"What is it? Mironov said Annie would be fine."

"Just let me—" his interruption was cut short as he dropped his eyes and shook his head. "I love you, Pandora, you know that don't you?"

Her lips quivered as she opened her mouth. Her brow furrowed. If he was telling her that he loved her then why did his voice sound so wounded? Why did it make her heart burn?

"Of course," she whispered back, "And I love you."

He looked into her eyes. He was a few paces away from her, but even from where she stood she could see that he was on the edge of tears.

"Annie is leaving tonight, going back to District 4."

Pandora speechless stared.

"Pandora—"

Her brow furrowed. Suddenly her eyes squinted in fear. She shook her head and took a step back. Acid burned her mouth. Her brain swelled. Her blood boiled.

"No..." her voice trembled.

"Please I—"

"You're leaving me?"

"She needs me."

"I need you!"

A thousand times she had fear it, and a thousand times she had repressed it. It was here nightmares coming true, she knew this would happen. She knew it and that's what made it so terrible.

His hand trembled as tears started rolling down his cheeks and he stepped back.

"I can't be apart from her."

Suddenly she felt like her whole body was going to collapse, "What are saying?"

"I'm—"

"You just said you loved me!? We've—we've been together for a year. You've only known her for a month! You don't just wake up one day a fall out of love with someone!"

Finnick looked away shamefully, "Please, I don't want to hurt you."

Her head was spinning. It wasn't like there was no warning, there were signs. Signs she had tried to ignore. They had started drifting apart since the day he had met Annie Cresta, but it was only now that her fears had materialized. Finnick Odair was standing in front of her, telling her he didn't want her. Her hands grabbed a dining chair as she gasped for air.

"You told me you'd never leave me…you promised you would never leave me!"

She thought of President Snow, of every terrible deed she had agreed to. She hated herself, there was no going back now, she hated herself completely. But another type of hate was quickly materializing.

Her screams were sharp, her face red. Tears started to well up in her eyes.

"I'm always going to be here for you."

"You're a liar!" She growled, backing away as he tried to reach out for her.

"You know it hasn't been the same as it used to be. We've grown apart."

"Because of you! So what?! A new pair of eyes and lips comes into your life and I'm just thrown away!? I knew this was happening—oh my god—you don't care about me, you don't do this to people you care about!"

"Annie isn't like you, Pandora. She not as strong. She needs me!"

Her eyes darkly glowered at him. In that instant something became dark and harsh.

"She's innocent and naïve. She's fragile."

As he listed off attributes Pandora knew that she was none of them. Her head buzzed. _Of course_, she thought to herself, _Annie's everything I'm not_. She's not a murderer or a pretender. She's not a sell out. He loved her more because she was pure, something Pandora would never be. Maybe she pure and chaste once, but she could never go back to that. She was tainted now. She was a killer.

A raw growl sounded from her as she struggled to not fall to her knees.

"I tried to fight it," He whispered, his eyes frantically trying to catch hers, "I love you, that's never going to change…but I'm _in_ love with Annie."

"I hate you!" She spat out suddenly through cries, "I hate you so much!"

"Don't say that."

Her unsteady breaths violently shudder her lungs as she backed into the shadows. It felt like a nightmare, maybe if she pinched herself she would wake up and have her life back. Wake up in District 7, never having being reaped. Marius would still be alive. Her family would greet her as she walked down the steps. She would never meet Finnick.

But that wasn't her reality, this was. This was the grim reality. The sticky horror of a reality that made her wish she could dissolve into nothing.

In this moment, as seconds and milliseconds past she could feel herself spiraling.

"Get out…" she whispered. Her eyes wildly locked on his, her jaw clenched. "Don't be coward. If you're going to leave me, just do it!"

"I want things to be right!"

"They'll never be right!" she stepped forward.

"I'm not going to leave without this settled."

"Why? So you can feel better about yourself?..." she dropped her teary eyes, "You don't get that luxury, Finnick!"

His eyes were so sorrowful and broken. He wanted to reach out for her but knew that she would only move away.

"I'm sorry."

"GET OUT!"

She clutched the side of her head, her heart felt like it was bursting. Her ribs felt like they were breaking.

She didn't watch him leave, she couldn't bear to. Her ears barely registered the door shutting behind his shadow.

In an angry daze her eyes moved around the apartment. Tears streamed down her face as cries and moans of heartache ruptured from every bone in her body.

Everything surrounded her was taunting. Every piece of furniture, every picture and mirror, the smell lingering in the air…it was all laughing at her grief.

She panted for air and screamed. Her chest rose and fell quickly.

Darkness fell over her. It's acrid smoke curled around her limbs and eyes. A surge of hate trembled through her veins.

Only a second passed before she grabbed a dining chair and broke it over the table. The glass shattered to the ground. Her hands threw pictures, vases, and china onto the floor. She wouldn't stop until every piece of furniture and artifact in the apartment was broken. Fueled by rage, madness and grief she let out a shriek, breaking mirrors with her fists. She felt shards cut her knuckles but didn't respond to the sharp pain. Debris flew everywhere. Tears fell from her eyes by the millions. Chaos rained in her soul. Even if she tried she wouldn't be able to form words. Only screams echoed from her.

It wasn't until she stopped for a moment that she gasped for air and dropped to the floor. Her hair fell over her face as she clutched the broken shards of metal, glass, and wood and screamed in madness.

Her head dropped to her hands as her whole body shook from crying.

Images of Finnick, memories of him blinded her, as if she relived their entire relationship in a matter of seconds.

He was gone.

She moaned in agony.

He was gone and he was never coming back.

She let the broken floor cradle her for an eternity. Her eyes vacantly stared at nothing, until she couldn't stand it any longer.

She needed to get out of here.

She needed to leave.

Her hands struggled to push her body up. Her flushed cheeks were riddled with tears.

She was a shade of herself. She was a dark figure.

Without looking back she started running.


	27. Wrecked

_Wrecked_

Adric Pedersen glanced at the time before nodding to a group of soldiers. He was standing in front of the train station organizing several of the peacekeepers in preparation for the Victor's departure.

His deep hazel eyes briefly glanced to the crowd, it was getting larger by the minute.

Stars glimmered across the night sky. On any other night he would have stopped to appreciate the view, but not tonight.

He backed away and adjusted the stiff collar of his uniform.

"Sir—"

It was always strange for him to hear a middle age man call him _sir_, he was an officer but he was also just a young man.

"What is it?" He responded with reservation. His head tilted up. His posture was perfect, the confidence that spilled from him was the kind of confidence only a well-educated elite would be able to maintain.

"The Victor car is on its way to the station now, only a few blocks—"

He nodded swiftly, "Anything else?"

"Yes. It's—It's strange. Just under an a few hours ago I received a transmission from the PSO. We've got reports of a breach in sector 7, underground…"

Adric's eyes widened with urgency.

"Don't worry, a team went down there several minutes ago, it seems to just be a malfunction. Something about the dampness getting to the wires. Apparently the water and humidity had the floodgate doors malfunction."

"Are you positive?"

"General Pedersen…that is your father, said everything has been investigated to satisfaction."

Anxiety quickly fell away from him, "Good."

A wave of excitement ran throughout the crowd like a shock of electricity. Suddenly they started cheering.

Adric's eyes lifted to fast approaching car.

"Alright! Make sure you keep the crowd back, no one is allowed past those gates and onto the platform!"

Silently the peacekeepers and soldiers started to push the mob back, slowly making a trail for the Victor and her team to file down. Adric cupped his hands behind his back, bored at the task he was being forced to perform. His long legs moved to the side.

He studied the cracks in the pavement below his shiny boots, noting the number of curves in each one within a matter of seconds.

When the car doors opened the excitement reached its peak. Every Capitol citizen tried to get to the Victor.

Something was off tonight. Adric wrestled under his uniform. Something was wrong.

It wasn't until the entourage was to the steps that Adric managed to look up. Once he did he stopped cold. His eyes narrowed in confusion. First he saw the Victor, but that wasn't what made him freeze…it was the person next to her, cradling her.

Finnick Odair.

He blinked his eyes, following them observantly. He noted Finnick's red eyes, his protective stance, the look he gave the Victor as she past through the doorway.

His lips parted. His eyebrow knitted together suddenly.

Without thinking he picked up his feet. The train whistled as he jumped up the steps, reaching the platform within seconds.

The walls dulled the roar of the crowd beyond it.

His mouth was open, his eyes narrowed in a frenzy. Only one word came to mind: _No. _

The entourage was filing onto the train. Finnick was the last one.

Adric pursed his lips. He felt abrupt anger, even malice. Without thinking he sprinted towards the train's entry.

Finnick had just made the first step when Adric grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?!"

In shock Finnick turned around and stumbled back onto the platform, "Let go of me!"

Adric scanned his face and tilted his head, "As an Officer of the Capitol Military I am asking what you're doing!"

Finnick puffed out his chest and stepped away. He looked beaten down. His eyes were so red. "I'm leaving."

The train whistled.

"What?"

A cold breeze blasted across the platform, some of Adric's electric blond hair stirred underneath his cap. He couldn't tell if Finnick's eyes were red from crying or because he disliked talking to a soldier so much.

"I'm leaving."

"But—how—Pandora is still here!"

Finnick looked away, shame and hurt read all over his face but he wasn't about to explain that to a scumbag from the Capitol.

"Let go of me," this time his voice was harsher.

"You can't—" Adric couldn't form words, he was shocked and horrified, "Pandora's still—"

Finnick grimaced. Tears started forming in his eyes as he pulled his arm back and glared at the soldier. His feet lifted quickly. Finnick darted up the train steps before Adric could stop him. Instantly the doors swung shut.

Adric was stunned. He had half a mind to halt the train but he just stood there. He caught a glimpse of Finnick's shadow through the windows. This couldn't be real.

With a screech the wheels started moving.

Adric stepped back with wide eyes. Suddenly the collar of his uniform felt very tight.

He swallowed the rawness in his throat, suddenly whirling around.

Without explanation he left the platform and broke through the line of peacekeepers. He was well into the crowd of fans when he started running.

Urgency and concern swept over him, making his blood pressure rise in fear. This was the something. This was the feeling he was getting.

He was running as fast as he could but it still wasn't fast enough.

A few Capitol citizens gawked at him as he blew past, whispering and wondering what that soldier was doing.

His eyes glanced to the concierge desk as he broke through the doors and unbuttoned the top bottom of the uniform, "Yuri!"

The concierge jumped out of his slumber and screamed, "Officer—what are you doing here?"

Adric glanced to the elevators like maniac and rubbed his lips with his finger, "Have you seen Pandora come by!?"

"I haven't seen anyone."

It wasn't the answer Adric wanted to hear. He shot Yuri a rage-full glare before running towards the elevator and jumping in.

His hands rubbed together urgently. Somehow he knew something bad was going to happen tonight. His lips dryly parted as the doors opened. Only a few more paces and he was there.

"Pandora!?"

He violently knocked on the doors. No answer.

"Pandora!? Are you there?!"

Again nothing.

He tried to stay calm as he pulled out a knife and wiggle the identification panel cover off, but he could feel his fingers shaking. A bunch of wires and microchips stared back at him. He wasted no time in hijacking the system, within seconds the doors opened.

At first it was too dark to see anything.

His breath trembled as he carefully stepped forward.

"Pandora!?"

The only response was a canine whimper.

His eyes darted through the darkness, his hand searched for the light switch. When he finally found it he stumbled back in horror.

"Oh my god…"

The whole apartment had been turned upside down. Anything breakable was crumbled on the floor. Chairs were half broken and scattered around the apartment. Mirrors were shattered.

"PANDORA!? ANSWER ME!"

Movement in the bedroom grabbed his attention. Quietly he grabbed his gun and took the safety off. Broken glass cracked and sang under his boots as he moved forward.

At the doorway he kept his gun confidently pointed and flipped the light on.

The bedroom was just as messed up as the main area. Pillows were torn, glass and mirrors shattered.

His eyes roved around the room observantly until movement to his side made him spin around. Swiftly he pointed his gun to the ground only to draw back.

Seven was huddled in the corner, his blue eyes gazed at Adric fearfully.

He lowered the gun, letting out a stressed sigh before placing it back in the holster.

"It's okay," he whispered to the wolf, his eyes peered to the bathroom as he knelt down to pet Seven.

Bottles and containers from the medicine cabinet had been thrown all over the floor. The shower had loose shards of glass hanging from it.

Seven whimpered as Adric pet him.

"It's okay," he repeated, "Everything will be okay."

But something felt terribly wrong.

He pursed his lips and angrily ground his teeth.

His hand moved to his belt suddenly. His finger struggled to press the sleek walkie button down, "Jarvis, this is Adric Pedersen. Are you there?"

White noise sounded for a second before the transmission was picked up.

"Adric, what the hell happened?! Why did you leave your post?!"

"I'm at the residence of Pandora Sullivan. I need reinforcements right now."

He could hear clicking on the other end of the line. Jarvis was probably plugging the name into the system for further identification.

"Pandora Sullivan? Why?"

"Because—" he gave Seven a solemn glance, "Something bad has happened."

"Alright, Adric, alright. I'm sending squad 451 your way right now."

"And Jarvis?"

"Yea?"

His eyes darkened, "I need you to activate her tracker."

"What?! Adric what's going on?!"

"Just do it!"

He let the walkie drop to the ground.

A shadow fell over his face. The panic was suffocating.

"Damnit, Pandora," his voice was barely a whisper, "Where are you?"

* * *

She was walking like a soulless shade. Her eyes were glued forward. Her breaths unevenly stung her lungs like needles.

The night was cold, but her skin was on fire.

She was far into the abyss of Energy Corridor.

Her hair wildly blew around her face and shoulders as she pushed through the crowd and glanced over the neon signs.

Everything was hazy, a giant blur she couldn't make sense of. A prickle at the back of the neck made her spin around. She could feel eyes on her, she turned from left to right but there was no one looking.

Since she ran out of her glass coffin she had felt eyes on her, felt like she was being followed. But each time she turned around there was no one.

Paranoia swallowed her grief for only a split second before she turned back around. Finnick's words were clawing at her brain.

Music rattled her whole body.

She licked her lips and hardened her gaze on the first club she saw. The wind picked up just as she reached the bouncer.

"Hello," her own voice scared her.

"Pandora Sullivan? Wow," the bouncer was star struck, "What an honor!"

"You gonna let me in or just stare?!"

He furrowed his brow in shock as he loosened the rope. A few people waiting in line jumped in excitement as she passed them up and pushed open the door.

Every move she made felt like someone else's. She descended the steps lifelessly and ordered a drink with a bitter edge.

It was dark except for a few colorful lights that swirled around. _Good_, she thought, _that way no one can see the state I'm in_.

Her back hunched over the bar as she placed her hands on either side of her head and stared at her drink.

Her knuckles were still bloody, she could feel the thick crimson gliding down her skin but she didn't blot it.

Her eyes glimmered as she threw back the first drink.

She wanted to drown herself. She wanted everything to fade away.

With every sip she took, with every drink that disappeared she felt like someone else. The warmness in her head and stomach wasn't comforting. Nothing was anymore.

Music blared, changed and morphed into a loud funeral ode to Pandora. She swayed slowly trembling as she lifted the 6th glass to her lips.

Time was become distorted.

She couldn't remember how long it had been since she arrived, and truthfully she didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Finnick was gone. She felt abandoned and empty.

"Hey—"

She parted her lips, corner-eyeing the owner of the voice. He had glasses and shaggy hair. Next to him were two other men, they all looked strangely disheveled. Out of place.

"Aren't you Pandora Sullivan?"

Her brown eyes glimmered with darkness and irritation, "Yea, want an autograph?"

They all laughed but it sounded forced.

"Wow, I'm a big fan."

"You're too kind," She spat back.

"It must feel strange to be the spokesperson of the Capitol and not even be from here, huh?"

Her smile was grim, "Yea, what an honor."

She was spewing off rehearsed lines she had used on Caesar and other interviewers, but every syllable she uttered sounded bitter and sharp.

The man with glasses leaned onto the bar and took a sip of his drink, "I bet people could point you out in a crowd."

Her lips mashed together, she was trying to ignore him.

"Funny that you don't have an escort? You'd think a person like you would have guards. After all you are the face of the Hunger Games, aren't you? Isn't that a little dangerous…"

Suddenly her patience ceased.

"How about I ask you a question?" She slurred turning to face the three men.

"What's that?"

"We're in the Capitol, right? But that sweater your friend is wearing doesn't look anything like high-class fabric, and your other friend—" she pointed to the one farthest away, "His boots look like his dead grandfather's. Isn't that a little _funny_?"

The man with glasses leaned back and smiled.

"And you want to hear something else?"

He arched his eyebrow, "Hm?"

"We're in the Capitol, right?"

She wasn't even bothering with niceties anymore. Her voice was pure sarcasm and knives.

He nodded, "Yea."

"And yet you don't have a hint of an accent."

His glasses reflected the dancing lights. His smile broadened, it looked frightening. He reminded her of a predator. Suddenly she was aware of how unaware she was. Everything was spinning.

"You're observant, aren't you?" she heard him say.

The next thing that happened took her so off guard she yelped, a yelp that was muffled by the music.

Unexpectedly and violently his hand was around her wrist.

She winced in pain and widened her eyes.

"I guess that's because…we aren't from the Capitol, Sweetheart. Brighton, go make sure the back door's opened."

One of the three nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

She twitched her eyes through the cloudy club, but no one was looking her way.

"Let go of me…" she whispered in sudden fear.

"Don't make a peep, you little wench," he pulled her to her feet.

She tried to catch the bartender's eyes but he was too busy. They sandwiched her, discreetly pulling her through the crowd.

She thought of running but his grasp on her was too tight and each of them was at least twice her size.

"What are you doing?" She tried to sober herself up but everything was blurry.

Pandora thrashed at the man with glasses but he pulled her further through the last bit of crowd. Her breathing shallowed when they moved through a swinging door. She screamed as he threw her against a wall, pain traveled along her side.

One of his partners locked the door swiftly.

"Help!"

"Shut her up, Brighton!"

She tried to dodge the blow but she was too intoxicated. Her jaw hitched as the man's fist bashed across her face. Blood spilled from her mouth. She fell to the ground.

"I checked the manhole, we got a clean exit."

"The military didn't catch the glitch in the underground system where we came through?"

"I don't think they suspect a thing."

"Great—Adler, bag her!"

Pounding rumbled the locked door. Someone had seen them.

Pandora cupped the blood spew from her mouth in shock, she groaned and lifted her eyes just as the man named Adler pulled a black sack out.

He cruelly stared at her before pulling it over her head.

Instantly Pandora started to thrash but the man held her down.

She could hear someone banging on the door again.

"Check her for trackers!"

She gasped for air and tried to overpower the man holding her down but it was no use, she was too weak.

Beeping pierced her ears.

Adler had a metal detector. He glided it over her body, checking for microchips. He was on her left arm when the beeping rattled with chaotic seizures.

"Got it!" he yelled to the leader, his finger skimmed over the barely noticeable scar before he pulled out a knife and sliced her skin open.

"AHH!" She screamed, stars whirled in her vision as his fingers dug through her skin.

He bared his teeth as he ripped it out of her arm and dropped it on the ground.

More banging echoed.

Pandora blinked her eyes but she couldn't see anything. The bag over her head blinded her, confused her.

"Alright, we need to leave now! Knock her out!"  
"What?"

"I said knock her out, Adler!"

She felt one of them let go of her, her body spastically tried to shuffle back but someone grabbed her feet.

"Help!" She shrieked, "Someone help—"

A sharp pain at the back of her head silenced her. Her eyes started to close. She felt her body collapse and the world stop just as blood oozed down her neck.


	28. Showtime

_Showtime_

Whispers of her father clouded her vision as she came in and out of consciousness. The iron taste of blood clung to her lips and tongue. A throbbing ache traveled from the back of her skull to her toes. She didn't realize she was moving until her eyes fluttered open for a brief second. Flashes of swinging lights, pipes along the wall, the clanging of water…she struggled with her vision.

Ground slid under her. She was being dragged through a tunnel. A dark and dank tunnel.

One minute she was seeing the swaying lights of the ceiling, the next her father's smile. She tried to move her arms but they refused, limply they pulled along the grimy floor with the rest of her body.

"Help…" she whispered, her eyes closing. It was hard to stay conscious.

"Sir, I think she's coming to."

Suddenly her body stopped dragging. Her breathing sounded like shards of glass. A foggy form was leaning over her, at first it looked like two people but it was just her dizzied vision.

"Dad?"

Cruel laughter echoed.

Her brow furrowed. She was drifting between consciousness and oblivion.

Her father's toothy grin clouded her already muddy sight once more.

"No…" she could barely move her lips, "…you're not real."

"She doesn't know what's going on, just bring her into the room."

"If you say so, sir."

She gasped as the dragging started again. Her hands slid behind her head, she could feel her fingertips grazing the icy floor, feel every crack that she past.

Water dripped on her face, falling onto her nose and down her cheek.

Rusty hinges creaked, it sounded like a metal earth was opening up to devour her but she just let them drag her. Her muscles wouldn't move.

Her eyes floated around. It wasn't just that her body felt weak, her mind did too. A moment of clarity told her that they must have given her something to dull her senses.

Darkness of the mysterious leaky corridor fed into darkness of a hollow room. Flames danced on candlewicks, for a minute she was mesmerized by them. The whole room looked like a puzzle from her vantage point. There were walls, a floor, chairs, a table, but she couldn't put it all together in one coherent image.

In her drug-induced stupor she barely realized she was being picked up before her head slumped backwards. Pain in her ankles told her she was on her feet.

Hoarse breaths escaped her. Her feet were on the ground but they weren't holding her up, one of her captures was.

"Help me," she whispered in a daze.

The man studied her face, nodding to a shadow in the corner of the room, "There's no helping you."

Chains clamored. She tried to use her neck muscles to stabilize her head but it just made her dizzy.

"Make the links tight."

Metal ripping on metal screeched.

Whether there were two voices or five Pandora couldn't tell.

"Bring her over."

She tried to push the man away but it did no good. Her toes dragged along the floor, the man's grip on her was steady and confining.

Two hands on her arms turned into four suddenly. Their palms felt clammy and unsettling but the next thing she felt was a million times worse.

Chains. They were twisting them around her torso, arms, and legs. They felt like blunt knife digging into her skin.

Instantly a cry of pain bellowed from her cracked lips.

"Why are doing this!?"

The only reply she got was a brain scrabbling slice of agony throughout her entire body as a shadow pulled on the chains and sent her arms above her head and her toes barely touching the ground. It was as if her body was just going to tear in half.

She writhed in torment, moaning incomprehensible words. She couldn't form sentences.

The door opened. Shadows backed away from her, all except one.

Her head hung close to her chest but her eyes lifted.

Even in the faint light she could see who the shadow belonged to. Candlelight reflected in his glasses.

"Hello, Pandora."

She tried to move her arms. Her reward was crushing pain.

"Who…who are you?"

Tears solemnly fell from her eyes as her head rolled back.

He took a step forward. He was only inches away now. She could see her mangled reflection in his glasses.

Her tears fell across her lips, mixing with her blood.

"What do you want from me?"

"You've spent the past two years being honored for murder of innocence and freedom. You've been worshiped in an ivory tower, you're face plastered across the Capitol. They're calling you the face of the voice of the Hunger Games, did you not that? You're a traitor to the free. You ask me what I want from you? Who I am?"

She tried to reply but all he got was a groggy rasp.

"My name is Nyx Starson and I'm here to make sure that you pay for your sins and that the whole of Panem sees it."

Her heart filled with suffocating fear, her eyes blinked tears.

"So…" he whispered, "Are you ready for your premier?"

She yelped as the chains tightened. Her vision went black for a split second.

"Adler, give Miss Sullivan a shot of adrenaline. I want her wide awake for the show that's about to happen."

His smile was malignant and cruel. She could feel her whole body shake.

* * *

"We lost her tracker's signal here. That's when Jarvis called in us and few other officials. Apparently you had ordered him to activate her tracker, so it sent up red flags."

Military personnel filed past Adric as he walked side by side with a logistics team chief from the Capitol army.

Smoke and alcohol lingered in the air even though the club had been quarantined. He was taken to the back of a storage room. Boxes were broken and bottles were shattered. There were obvious signs of a struggle. His eyes lowered to puddles of blood.

"Have you identified the blood?" He asked, dropping to his knees as he caught sight of the tracker soaked in gore and a little bit of skin.

"Yes, sir, it's Pandora Sullivan's."

He pursed his lips. The breach in sector 7. His fingers angrily rubbed the side of his face and lips as he glanced around the room. It wasn't a false alarm at all. Clever rebels had managed to slip through the underground sewers.

"The breach…" he whispered.

"Yes, sir. We believe the two events are tied together."

His eyes darkly peered to the man, "Obviously, but what else have you found?"

The logistics soldier bumbled in panic. He dropped his eyes to his panel and started scrolling through several pages of data, maps, and blueprints.

"Well—uh—"

"Don't ramble," Adric barked, "Spit it out, we don't have time for this."

"Yes, sir, uh—if the breach was in sector 7 and they traveled all the way here they must have been watching Miss Sullivan for some time, my guess is they had a way of delaying the breach. Which means they have an electrical engineer—which would indicate—"

"District 3," Adric quickly finished the man's thoughts.

"Yes."

"What else?"

"The floodgate that we thought malfunctioned feeds into a system of underground tunnels that filter into many other Districts, it's a maze of sewage systems. Those doors and large hills of underground debris were the only things blocking them off. They've been that way since the Dark Days. Which is good and bad."

"Why?"

The man wrestled with the question, "Good because we know their point of entry, bad because those tunnels stretch underneath not only one District but three."

Adric grabbed the panel from the soldier and pulled up a map of the tunnel systems, "What Districts are they?"

"Districts 1, 2, and 3."

"We've been having unrest in District 3, it wouldn't be a surprise if that's where our perpetrators came from."

"Yes, but the rebels have a chaotic system in place. My men have been trying to create patterns within their attacks but there doesn't seem to be any practicality behind it."

"Could they still be in the Capitol?"

"Hard to say, sir. Given the amount of time and whatever resources they have, there would be no way of knowing."

Adric tried to hide his fears. He cleared his throat before bringing the walkie to his lips, "Jarvis, this is Pedersen."

Static and then a click.

"Adric, what's going on?"

"I need you to send out a squad to the underground. Got it? I want those tunnels searched from top to bottom."

"Has your superior okayed this, Adric?"

"Damnit Jarvis, just do it!"

He lowered the walkie and glanced at the blood splatter on the ground. The idea of Pandora bleeding in a sewer somewhere made his stomach churn. He would never forgive himself if she died. The logistics soldier seemed to notice and quickly responded.

"My best guess is that she was putting up too much of a fight for them."

"Smart girl," Adric whispered.

The soldier tensely blinked his eyes.

"So what you're telling me is that Pandora could be anywhere?"

"Sir, this wasn't a spur of the moment mission. This was planned. They must have been watching Miss Sullivan, my guess is they followed her here. Sir—we don't even know if she's still alive. We don't know what we're dealing with."

Adric's expression was so intimidating and grave that the soldier had to look away. He tossed the panel back to the man and glared. "No, she's alive."

"But sir—all this suggests—"

"I know she's alive!"

The room fell silent. Adric glanced around and clenched his jaw, "Send your reports to the Military HQ at the PSO. Got it?"

He only stopped by his home to take a shower and change his clothes. His eyes were full of angst and tire but there was no way he would be able to sleep.

Dawn was breaking.

Capitol citizens were still drunk off celebrations, the end of the 70th Hunger Games loomed through the streets. If only they knew what was lurking under the surface.

In less than 24 hours Pandora had been abducted and beaten. Adric's wove through the busy foyer of the PSO.

He past 7 levels of clearance, the highest number of checkpoints. He was about to enter one of the most guarded and secret regions of the Panem Special Operations. Military Headquarters.

Officially the Armory was the headquarters for the Capitol military, but unofficially—well—it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that only 10% of the Military were aware of the HQ.

He had already done the ID swipe.

Now came the retinal scan, which traced his iris with blue light.

Check point two was finished.

Next a white corridor waited. He cleared his throat at the end of the corridor and scanned the large white doors. His hand firmly pressed against the panel.

"_Access Granted." _

Chaos swirled through the room. Glass boards filled with charts, scribbled equations, and logistics surrounded a large operating center in the middle of the room. Screens along the east wall were reviewing the surveillance videos.

Officers of varying ranks whispered and bickered to each other. Blueprints were spread out everywhere.

Adric's jaw tightened when he saw his father.

He took two steps forward, clicked his heels together and raised his hand to his forehead in salute, "Sir."

His father's gaze studied his son for a moment, "At ease, soldier."

Adric couldn't fully ease though. His hand lowered but his eyes stiffly shifted around the room, "I've just come from the point of abduction."

"I heard. Jarvis tells me you were giving him commands."

"Well—I—"

"Now, I don't think I need to remind you that you're supposed to verify everything with me, do I?"

Adric lowered his eyes in shame and shook his head, "No, sir."

"Good. Follow me."

He caught his breath as his father turned around. Near the wall of monitors Mironov was standing. His cheeks were flushed. One look at him and Adric knew he was worried.

"How did Dr. Mironov get in?" Adric asked his father, straightening his uniform before coming to a stop.

General Trajan Pedersen robotically lifted his hand to a glass panel and brought up a map of the underground. He didn't look at his son when he spoke, "The President thought he could be of some service in helping find the abductee."

"How?"

"I didn't ask, you never asked unnecessary questions to your superiors, Adric."

Again, he held in his breath, "Of course, sir."

Sometimes Adric wondered if his father was even human. He had never seen him smile, never heard emotions in her voice. At an early age Adric learned to not ask questions, to listen and obey.

"A read the report you had the logistics chief send, it's detailed although I don't know how much help it will be."

"We know they got in through the floodgates under sector 7."

"Yes, but those floodgates extend throughout the 3 Districts surrounding us. Without ample details we may not have time to save this girl."

Adric tried to ignore the purposeful malice in his father's tone.

"I don't think they would capture her and kill her, not without an audience."

"Unless she wasn't captured at all."

"What?!"

"Straighten your posture, Adric."

He stretched his neck and pursed his lips in obedience but the fire in his eyes wouldn't die.

"Are you saying you think—"

"I'm saying that probability suggests Pandora Sullivan wasn't abducted but persuaded. I'm suggesting that we aren't dealing with kidnapping, we're dealing with a runner."

"She would never do that, she could lose everything."

"Never underestimate a person's will."

"You don't know her though, she wouldn't risk—"

"Adric."

He drew back as his father coldly peered to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Your empathy is a very weak quality."

Adric bowed his head, peering away. He didn't dare talk back.

"Yes, sir."

"You are a good soldier, but you could be great, couldn't you?"

Suddenly his father pointed to his chest, it felt like a knife.

"But that—" he needled his heart with this finger, "That gets in the way. Don't be weak."

He didn't feel insulted. All he felt was guilt, because in some warped way he believed that his father was right. His lips sadly rubbed together as he nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, go help Mironov. That batty old man is getting in the way."

Adric didn't lift his eyes till he was several paces away from his father. The doctor was pacing in front of the monitors. In his hand was a notebook he was scribbling into.

"Viktor," Adric greeted.

Mironov urgently grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side. His glasses slightly slipped down the bridge of his nose as he looked into the young soldier's eyes, "Do you know about the latest theory?"

"I was just informed."

"She would never try to run. How would she even have contact with these rebels?"

"I know, Viktor."

Mironov let out a wild breath and rubbed his hands together in thought, "What was she doing out there alone? I know none of us thought this could happen in a million years but still…she should have been with someone. It's not like her to go wandering."

Adric licked his lips. He knew exactly why she was out all alone, the thought of it made anger and spite surge through him. "Finnick Odair took the Victor's train to District 4. A one way ticket, Viktor."

Mironov's eyes widened.

"I went to her apartment. Everything was wrecked."

"Could it have been the rebels?"

Adric tried to hold back emotions, he shook his head. "It was Pandora."

"How can you be sure?"

"Every mirror in the place was shattered. You're her shrink, Viktor, you tell me what that suggests?"

Mironov stared at him with fright, he scratched his beard and mumbled something under his breath that Adric couldn't distinguish. After frenzied glances around the HQ the doctor finally looked back to Adric.

An urgency was sweeping over him quickly, an urgent need to tell Adric about Pandora's candidacy and what that meant. He had been sworn to secrecy but if something were to happen to Pandora Mironov would fall apart. Right then and there he made up his mind. He couldn't tell Adric the full story but he could tell him the important part, the part that matter at this moment.

"Adric…"

"What?"

Mironov looked around the room again, pulling them out of earshot, "I need to tell you something. It's important. It is crucial you listen to me."

"Okay."

"Now, I can't tell you everything I can only tell you this...over the past year I have been dosing Pandora once a month with a serum."

Adric's eyes narrowed, "Excuse me?"

"Just listen. I can't tell you what that is for, but Adric—the months almost up and if we can't find Pandora Sullivan by the time the clock runs out I'm afraid something terrible might happen to her if she can't get that dose of serum."

"Viktor, what have you done?"

"Don't you understand? I can't tell you. We need to find her, Adric."

"_What's going on over there?!"_

Mironov stumbled back and rubbed his beard. Trajan was staring at them suspiciously.

"We've got a missing person and a possible attack on our hands and you two are chatting it up over there?!"

Adric was dumbstruck. Mironov's words had unraveled him. He speechlessly turned to his father, but no words came out.

"Sorry, General!" the doctor immediately shouted.

"_Hey—what the hell!?"_

A crackling screeched through the large room. Soldier's cupped their hands over their ears, a few staggered back. All eyes turned towards the wall of monitors.

"General!" one of the operators was frantically shouting, he was flipping switches and pressing buttons like a madman, "Sir, something is happening!"

Swiftly Adric ran to the center of the room. Soldiers were crowding around the wall of screens. Every single monitor was black. No matter what the operator did he couldn't bring screens up again.

"Sir, I think someone has hijacked the system!"

"What?! How is that possible?"

Adric hands trembled, "The same way it's possible that the floodgates were opened. They have an electrical engineer…."

Voices erupted and garbled. Panic filled the room.

Soon the black screens turned to static. Then the static stopped.

The picture was clear.

A single man was sitting in a chair. He wore glasses. It was hard to make anything out around him, everything was so dark.

"_Hello, pestilent soldiers of the Capitol. By now we are sure it has come to your attention that Pandora Sullivan has disappeared." _

"The feeds coming in live, sir, but I can't get a lock on it!"

"_Don't worry, this stream isn't broadcasting all over the Capitol. At least not yet. Believe me when I say our numbers, spies, and technology are just as advanced and plentiful as yours. But enough with the small talk—let's get down to business—"_

The man with glasses whistled loudly and rose from his seat.

Every ear and eyes focused on the monitors.

Rustling and groans murmured from somewhere near the camera. Suddenly a figure was thrown onto the seat. A bag was over their head, their hands were tied together.

Adric stepped forward as one of the masked figures pulled the bag off.

Pandora's face was swollen and bloody. Her hair wildly fell over her face. A chain was gagging her mouth, pressing into her skin. She looked petrified.

"Oh my god," Mironov struggled to whisper.

The man with glasses quickly came back into the picture. He stood behind Pandora's body. She jumped as he put his hands on her shoulders.

"_Behold your creation! Pandora Sullivan the face of the Hunger Games!" _

Adric could barely contain the growl that simmered out of him. For the first time in his life he felt the distinct burn of hate.

"_In 36 hours we request the release of three of our people. People we know you have in your custody. If within these 36 hours, our requests aren't met…all across the Capitol our engineers will hook into every screen you have, in every home, and we will execute Pandora Sullivan live."_

Adric's chest tightened, his hands balled in to fists as he lowered his eyes to Pandora's startled face.

The man with glasses paused, smiling slightly before walking around Pandora and loosening the chain from her mouth and backing out of the picture once more.

"What are they doing?"

General Trajan studied the screens and crossed his arms, "There coercing her to plead. They think it will make their theatrics even more dramatic, I'm sure."

But Pandora simply trembled. The bonds around her wrists cut into her skin as she shifted her eyes around and struggled for breath. Adric wanted to burst through the monitors and save Pandora but he was frozen. As if his father could have ever called her a runner, she could barely sit up.

Her eyes were on something beyond the camera, there was no way of telling if it was a person or object, but then she grimaced. Someone was forcing her to speak.

A million monitors depicted her quivering lips as she opened her mouth.

"_My name is Pandora Sullivan…." _

Blood gushed out her lip and down her neck. It was obvious the lines were rehearsed.

"_Please help…me…help me…"_

Adric's eyes filled with horror. He squinted.

"C'mon, say something…say anything else…" he whispered to himself. They needed to save her, and to save her they needed details.

The silence was so long that he felt a terrible rock form in his gut. But then he saw her eyes lift once more. Again, her gaze darkly glanced to something behind the camera, only this time there was something else in her eyes.

She sniffed loudly and tilted her head up. It looked like she was trying to calculate something.

"_Say it!" _

She narrowed her eyes at the owner of voice.

More silence.

And then her mouth suddenly open. Her eyes stared directly at the camera, words started flying out of her so fast that the rebels didn't have time to fully silence her.

"_The room is full of pipes. I can hear water and the air is damp! I was dragged through a corridor with water leaking—"_

She was rambling any detail she could. Helping the military.

Adric's face broke into a sad smile, "Yes, good girl!"

Suddenly military officials started darting towards their stations.

"_Shut her up, now!" _

Adric could feel his breathing stopped as a shadow approached her.

"_Nyx Starson!" _

It was the last thing she shouted before a hand slapped her across the face, sending her falling backwards.

"_Starson!" _ She screamed again.

Blood splattered against the floor.

Suddenly the screen went black. Leaving the whole Military HQ with several heartbeats of astounded silence.

Adric's father did a quick sweep of the black screens.

"Did you record that?"

"Got it, sir!" The operator quickly responded.

"Check for voice identifications! Someone look up the name Nyx Starson, right the hell now!"

Adric rushed to the nearest logistics member.

"She said there were pipes, water…."

The logistics officer pulled up maps and blueprints, "It could be anything underground, they could still be in the tunnel systems…."

"No, no way. They wouldn't stay down there. There's too much of a risk we would eventually find them."

Adric's eyes unblinkingly flipped through the maps. Suddenly he lifted his eyes.

"Pull me up a schematic of District 1."

The logistics officer pushed past the bustle of rampant soldiers and scientists and obeyed. Adric studied the diagrams for a only a split second, "She said she heard water….there are only a few places where she would hear that, where water would not only be heard but leak through the walls and ceiling."

"Yes?"

He slammed the panel on the table and pointed to the screen, "The Hydra-Dam."

The logistics officer stared at Adric in surprise and agreement, "It's right on the outskirts of the District 1. Difficult entry for the amateur but I think it's obvious these rebels aren't amateurs. It's a possibility."

"Pull me up exact blueprints now."


	29. The Countdown

_The Countdown _

Her body lurched forward, the only thing keeping her from falling off the chair were the chains binding her arms behind her back. Blood trickled down her mouth, fresh blood.

"24 hours left…" One of the rebels hissed.

Sweat ran down the back of her neck and chest. She was delirious from being beaten and chained, from lack of food, sleep, and water. When she tried to respond her lips dryly rubbed together. Nothing but a rasped breath came out.

"Maybe we should move, she tried to tip them off."

The leader of the team, Nyx, was staring at Pandora, "No. They won't find us. They can only do so much with a name and incoherent list of details."

"But—"

"I said no, my orders are stay in place until the second team arrives."

Pandora coughed, blood spilled out of her mouth onto the floor.

"I don't know what you think I've done…but I'm not your enemy…please, let me go."

Nyx looked up from his gun, he smiled slowly, calculatingly, "Interesting words from someone who is being given favors directly from the Capitol government. You're everything our cause is against, and the worst part of it is that you should know better."

Her wrists fought against her chains and she lifted her eyes, "I am not here to fight battles!"

"You're exactly right, Miss Sullivan, you're here to make an impression."

He firmly placed a clock on the table in between them, it was set for a countdown.

"And in 23 hours and 58 minutes you'll see how serious of an impression it will be."

"I haven't done anything wrong—please—"

"You haven't done anything wrong?!" His laugh menacingly echoed through the metal room. Some of his rebel friends smiled, "You murdered people for the sake of entertainment—"

"No!"

"You killed them and now you're making a profit out it, and you're not even ashamed. All of Panem sees your face across screens, they see these oh so charming interviews and hear your carefree words…. You know I remember your games, I remember watching the coverage of them."

Pandora's eyes darkened, she clasped her lips together tightly, trying to hold back tears of pain and fear.

"Adler here knew the girl that year from District 3. You remember her don't you?"

She lowered her swollen and bruised eyes.

"I didn't kill her…."

"No, but you watched as she got torn to pieces by eel muttations."

Her gaze slowly moved to Adler's face, "I am not a murderer."

"Is that what you tell yourself? I wonder what your friend would say back. The one you killed in cold blood."

Instantly she saw his face: Marius's eyes as she slid the knife into him. Goosebumps rose all over her skin. She could feel her frozen heart cracking in agony.

Nyx laughed, and cocked his gun, "That's what I thought."

When he rose from his seat Pandora's watery eyes lifted. He pressed his palms against the table, his smile was equal parts sadistic and amused.

"You aren't innocent. If anything you're worse than the Capitol. You smile and sigh like a good little doll, you're against the people's cause. You're the epitome of everything that's wrong with the Capitol, and it will be a pleasure when that clock runs out to bring a little justice to the corruption."

She knew he meant what he was saying, but something stirred inside her. Though rationality was trying to tell her to shut up and listen she couldn't stop herself.

"You're a hypocrite and a coward," she suddenly spat back through blood and breathlessness, "You lock me up and call me a murderer. How many people have you murdered, Nyx Starson?!"

He leaned closer, broadening his smile, "It's not murder if they're animals."

For a heartbeat she drew back in surprised horror.

"Oh look at you—does it offend you when I call your Capitol flesh-peddlers animals?"

Her eyes fluttered. She was trying her damnedest not to cry but it was hard to stare into the soulless eyes of Nyx and not. For all she knew he had been pushed over the edge by something the Capitol had done to someone he loved, but she didn't care. The longer she looked into his eyes the more she saw the warped light in them. He would burn the Capitol the ground, children and all and he would do it for a cause that was bigger than himself, a cause that there was no way he could properly fathom. She hated what the Capitol had done to her, what President Snow had done to her, but never had she wanted to destroy people, to murder just to make a point. Quickly she recalled Mironov's story about his wife and daughter being slaughtered by rebels, Pandora couldn't help but wonder if this was the same lot that did those terrible deeds.

"I know people in the Capitol that are more human and kind then you could ever hope to be!"

Her words came out like a growl, pointed and sharp. Even she was surprised that she had said them, surprised at how much she believed them.

"And when they find me, I'll be happy to see you hanged, but something tells me a far worse fate rests on your horizon, Nyx Starson. You're nothing!"

His fist bashed against her face so hard that it threw her to the ground, chair, chains and all. Her breaths fought against the dank floor. Stars swirled in vision, when they finally cleared she felt someone grabbing the fabric of her coat and pulling her back up.

She was eye to eye with him now. The chair was still bound to her body by the chains but she was clear off the floor. Blood ran down her face from a gash just on the edge of her cheekbone.

"For someone who claims to not support the Capitol, you have a funny way of showing it."

Suddenly he unsheathed a knife and placed the tip to her throat.

"Maybe I should cut you right here."

"Nyx don't! The Captain told you our orders, we wait!"

Pandora shifted her eyes to his face and clenched her jaw. She was challenging him.

"Nyx!"

He stared back at her. She knew he meant it, but slowly he loosened his grip on her.

"I heard you the first time—" he mumbled angrily.

A crack sounded as he fully let go of Pandora, sending her and the chair back to the ground. She could feel the chair wobble for a minute, but the rebel stopped it with sole of his boot. He was glaring down at her when she looked back up.

His eyes twitched to the countdown, "Tick-tock."

Anger and terror was surging through her veins. She tried to bow her head but chains tightened around her body and arms, pulling her into a contorted position. She closed her eyes and thought of every misdeed she had done. A tear rolled down her cheek as she recalled the way she spoke to Finnick, a painful wish broke through her shadowy thoughts. She wished he would come back, she wished he had never left. That he would rush through the darkness and save her with his burning light.

But he was gone. Gone forever.

Her eyes shifted to the countdown.

23 hours and 30 minutes left.

A scorching headache rattled her brain and insides suddenly. Time was running out.

* * *

"Nyx Starson. He's a native of District 9, sir. Age 28. He has no living family. I ran backgrounds on his genealogy list, his old brother died in the 51st Hunger Games. I checked with a few peacekeepers in the area, he hasn't been to his stationed job in several months."

"Why wasn't the Capitol informed of this before?"

"The peacekeepers said he was so inconsequential they didn't see a point, sir."

General Trajan sourly rolled his eyes and glanced at the identification pictures on one of the tablets. Sure enough it was the same face as the one in the video. Same glasses, same bitter expression, only younger.

"This is why we can't count on common peacekeepers…any updates on the other voices?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Well, get moving. We only have 20 more hours!"

Adric could hear his father's shouts from across the room. He peered up from the screens he was studying for a split second. Hearing the amount of time left made his saliva taste like acid, made urgency swallow him whole. He returned his gaze to the blueprints and pressed his fingers to the screen.

He was scanning every exit even air vents. His lips pursed.

Mironov had left soon after the live video feed, he couldn't bear to be around the tension and chaos, but his words still clung to Adric. _He had to get to Pandora_.

"Any new finds?"

His shoulders straightened to the sound of his father's voice.

"I think I know where she is."

He pressed the screen twice, letting a cross sectional blueprint rise up.

General Trajan narrowed his eyes, "Hydra-Dam."

Adric pushed his hair away from his forehead, "Yes. I've reviewed the live feed several times. Pandora's descriptions coupled with some images I was able to gather from the background suggest—"

"Less words, Adric."

"Right—" he peered back to the screen and brought up an image taken from the video, an image of pipes, very unique pipes, "You see these—they are the exact same ones as the pipes that run along the flooding chambers of the dam. I think they have her there."

"The rebels aren't stupid. They know what she shouted as well, they've moved most likely."

"Not if they're counting on us thinking that they stayed in the tunnel systems. Logistically speaking the tunnel systems and the interior of the dam could be confused."

"So how are _you_ sure?"

"She said she heard water."

"Could have been pipes carrying water."

"I know I'm right, sir."

Trajan stared at his son and then the cross-section. He seemed to mull over their conversation for a split second.

"I'll have squad 34 go out to District 1 and check."

Adric widened his eyes, "With your permission I'd like to go along, sir."

"No."

Trajan was about to turn around but Adric stopped him.

"Father, I need to do this. I'm one of the best young Officer in the military, I know my way around District 1, I've been there several times. I can do this."

Trajan corner-eyed him.

"Tell me something, Adric. Are you doing this for her or are you doing it for your Capitol?"

Adric dropped his hand. His eyes lowered so fast that it made Trajan grimace.

"She isn't important to you. She'll never be, Adric. You've spent so much time trying to be her friend. You're better than she is. It's not healthy to consort with lesser people like her. They start to put strange ideas in your head."

"If she's not important than why are we trying so hard to save her?"

"Because she is imperative to the President."

"I can do this, father. I can get her back, and—and I'll do it because it's my duty as a soldier to. All I want to do is help, please let me do this."

Trajan studied his son's face. It was hard to tell what went on behind his father's cold eyes. Most of the time he was expressionless, his stoic face was something that had been burned into the retinas of Adric's eyes since he was a little boy. He feared that face. He feared it more than death. At one point he was sure there was love in those eyes, but it had all washed away long ago. His brow knitted together as he thought of his mother—it had all darkened when she died. All that was left was this sharp and rattled relationship he had with his father. Adric didn't know what love was, he didn't know how to feel it or see it, like his father he had been numbed and muted by death. He wanted to convince himself he was going to District 1 just for Pandora but it wasn't the truth, he wanted to prove that he was good enough. Prove he was worth a damn.

His father leaned back and lifted the walkie to his lips.

"Jarvis, this is General Trajan."

Static.

"Yes, sir?"

"Round up Squad 34. I want Hydra-Dam searched. This is a priority class mission, Jarvis. I want the jet ready in under an hour."

"Right away, sir."

"And Jarvis?"

"Yes?"

"Officer Adric Pedersen will be traveling alongside with the squadron leader, you got that?"

Relief swept over Adric, but it felt pressed and stale. There was no reason to feel relief. He hadn't saved Pandora yet. He couldn't breath until he had.

"Yes, sir."

"That'll be all."

Trajan lowered the walkie and cleared his throat. His cold eyes landed on his son's face.

"Thank you, father."

"Don't thank me just yet."


	30. Hearing Damage

_Hearing Damage_

Snow was falling from the sky. Summer snow from the mountains. It was being blown in flurries. Metal on metal screeched through the air. Military boots thumped against the ground. The sky was black. Night had fallen over the Capitol but 20 stories up on the flat roof of the PSO a jet roared to a start. Adric flipped the collar of his uniform up. It was different than the decorative one, strictly for combat. His hazel eyes peered out across the city lights. His nose and cheeks were bitten by the sudden cold. A few flakes rested on his lashes and hair. 10 hours left.

Seven panted at his side. He had a hold on the leather leash but it didn't seem like it was necessary. The wolf diligently stayed next to him. Its ears perked up at the sound of the jet and military. It's blue eyes gazed out at the city, just like Adric's. Pandora had received Seven only a few short weeks before but it had grown fast. Although it wasn't full grown yet it was still rather large. Large enough to do what Adric had in mind.

"Officer Pedersen!"

A loose strand of hair fell across his forehead as he turned around to see a pilot.

"We're leaving in 5 minutes."

He tightened his jaw. Without smiling he nodded, "Thank you."

Although there was no true way to be sure that the Hydra-Dam was Pandora's location, Adric could feel it in his bones. He simply knew it. There was no way of explaining that to anyone. His fingers coolly rubbed against the leash. A memory of the puddle of blood in the storage room and Pandora's beaten face in the video sobered him further. If the Hydra-Dam wasn't the right hunch then there was a good chance she would die, and it would be on his head. He sniffed loudly. The scent of snow was heavy. It was a risk he was willing to take.

He barely had to tug the leash to get Seven to follow him. Soldiers marched by nodding to him and staring wide-eyed at the wolf, but Adric didn't acknowledge them. His eyes were cold and firm. His skin was like steel.

"Adric!"

The voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned to face Mironov. The doctor looked out of place surrounded by the soldiers. In his hands was a case.

"Yes?" The wind cloaked his voice.

Mironov took the short steps to Adric and looked up at his face, "This is for you."

Adric stared at the case for a split second before grabbing it.

"It's a device I designed. It will render any gun useless within a 1000-foot radius for several minutes. Should give you some time. I'm guessing these rebels don't have the training the Capitol soldiers do."

"Simple to use?"

Mironov smiled, "Just push the red button."

Adric didn't smile, "Thanks, Viktor."

He cringed when he felt Mironov place his hand on his shoulder, "Look at me."

Immediately Adric shifted his eyes and blinked.

"You'll get her back."

"I know I will, Viktor."

"You will," he repeated.

"Just for you. Just so you can experiment on her like an animal."

"Adric—"

"Save it," He snapped, narrowing his eyes, "You make me sick."

Adric tried to walk away but Mironov grabbed his wrist.

"Let go of me, Viktor."

"What I've done—what I've had and will have to do is not how I want it to be. There are things you don't understand."

Adric stared off into the distance and let out a dark laugh, "I do though, Viktor. I understand that she trusted you and you drugged her. I don't need to know what it's for. I already know enough. You aren't fit to take care of her."

"Not now. You hear me, Adric? You have to remain calm and clear headed. Don't let your emotions get in the way. She could die if you aren't careful. I care for her. I do. There are things to come that I won't forgive myself for, but she is lost now. She needs you."

"If you don't let go of my wrist right now I will break your neck so fast no one will be able to stop me," Adric dropped his eyes to the doctor's face, "And you know I can, Viktor. You've seen me do it."

Shock disrupted the wrinkles on Mironov face but he still hesitated to back down. When he finally let go he sadly looked away.

Adric had just reached the ramp when he heard Mironov again.

"Don't be afraid! You will get her back!"

His chest tightened as he continued to walk and pursed his lips. He could feel the jet humming as soon as he stepped on. Most of the squad was already inside, buckling up for the bumpy ride. Pilots were checking operations.

"What are you doing with that thing?"

It was the squadron leader. At first Adric assumed he was talking about the case in his hands but when he looked up he realized that he was asking after the wolf.

"He's coming with us."

"No—absolutely not."

"Yes, he is."

"On whose authority?"

"Mine."

"What good will a wolf do?" The squadron leader was angry now.

"This wolf is familiar with Miss Sullivan's scent, if she's at the Hydra-Dam it will find her. Also you'll notice those nice sharp things we call teeth and claws."

The leader wrinkled his aged brow and glared at Adric for several heartbeats. Adric never looked away. Finally in agreement he scoffed and motioned towards a seat.

"Buckle up, Pedersen. Want a chew toy for the puppy?"

The whole jet erupted in laughter. The ramp closed. He felt the jet take off as soon as he fastened his seatbelt. With a blast they flew into the sky. He checked the bullets in his gun and cleared his throat. Seven howled.

The Hydra-Dam was vast. Its spine stretched across 10 miles of lake and land. At night red and green interchanging lights blinked. It looked like a cement and steel fortress and in the wrong hands it could have been. Even from several miles away the roaring sound of tamed water and currents echoed. It wasn't hard to fly and land nearby unnoticed, not in the dark. They landed in the harbor of trees. With the moon as their guide the squad and Adric moved out. There were roughly 10 of them. Some were very young—even younger than Adric—others were worn and tempered. Out of habit Adric found himself watching the other soldiers, but the farther into the forest they got the harder it became. The canopy of trees was quickly cloaking the moonlight. In the stillness of the night the only one that seemed to be in their element was Seven. He sniffed the ground and whined from time to time, Adric took this as a good sign. Closer and closer they walked. Louder the sound of rushing water became. All walkies had been turned off. The squad had spread out. They were covering a mile of terrain. With one final step Adric swallowed the dryness in his mouth and pushed back the branches. His eyes focused. His feet stopped. They had reached the edge.

A few short clicks away stood the squadron leader, in his hands was the device Mironov had given Adric.

He could hear the sound of his own breath. Smell the grass and water. A quiet breeze picked up some of the water and sprayed it into the meadow. Adric felt it kiss his face before he pulled Seven back and lowered his hand to his furry head to calm his whining. In front of him was the monstrous construction. There had to be at least 100 entrances. Even looking at the blueprints Adric knew this wasn't going to be the easiest mission. Searching and, if necessary, fighting in the Hydra-Dam was like trying to solve a puzzle.

The squadron leader was the first person to enter the clearing.

Adric followed his actions.

The grass in the clearing was high. Crickets chirped in response to the stealthy line of soldiers that crept through the field. The point of entry was coming into view as Adric approached the halfway point. Soon the grass turned into gravel. He heard it crunch under his boots.

Seven sniffed the ground and growled. As Adric dropped his eyes the squadron leader reached his side.

"What is it?" he asked.

Adric squinted. His eyes danced around the ground, all the way to the door.

"He smells something. The ground—" he looked at the leader, "It's been disturbed."

"Could be workers."

Slowly Adric pulled out his gun, "Let's not take any chances. You first, sir."

The leader smiled and let out a whistle that could have been mistaken for a bird's. Immediately the rest of the team started to scatter. Only 5 other soldiers stayed with them, the rest disappeared to their planned positions.

"Don't mind if I do."

The door gave way with a rusty creak. Blue lights illuminated a narrow corridor. Adric's eyes lifted to the ceiling.

"Those pipes, they were the ones in the video."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and smiled, "Never been more sure. Time to follow the bread crumbs."

Their footsteps were close to silent save for the few shallow puddles they dashed through. Adric kept an eye on the pipes. Chambers and corridors were past. Sometimes he doubted if they were going the wrong way but he didn't share his suspicions with the others. He stayed the course. Not a sound had echoed since they had entered the dam. A squirming in his gut nauseated him. He could be completely wrong. Maybe his eyes had played tricks on him, maybe Pandora wasn't even in District 1…but then it happened.

At first it was just a clanking, it blended in with the other noises of the dam. Everyone stopped. Adric pressed his back against the wall, feeling dampness creep into the fibers of his uniform. Soon the clanking loudened, soon it richened. He parted his lips. It wasn't a clanking. It was voices.

He shot the leader a look before continuing forward. Something else was happening. The dim blue lights were being washed away by something else. A warm source of light, it grew as they took one final turn. Before them was a long corridor, a metal staircase and doors. Only the last door was opened. Inside golden light glowed.

The leader nudged Adric and nodded to the stairs. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Why would they go up if the room was already on their level? The leader seemed to silently understand his expression. He grabbed a small panel from one of the accompanying soldiers and revealed the blueprints. The room in question had several points of entry, including ones from above. From the sketches it looked like there weren't only stairs into the room but ramps. Being higher would give them the advantage. Adric pursed his lips and nimbly stepped onto the staircase. Seven followed. He had been worried in the jet about how loud the wolf would be once inside the dam but Seven was even quieter than him. It was like he knew why they were here.

The voices stayed constant. That was how Adric knew the rebels hadn't caught onto them. Slices of light spilled onto the ground and walls as he approached the upper entries. He stayed with the leader as the other 3 soldiers slipped through a chamber. They were surrounding them, blocking off exits.

Adric was just close enough to catch a glimpse inside the room when he felt Seven pull on the leash and growled. He had to drag the wolf back and steady him. Whatever was inside Seven wanted to get to. It had to be Pandora.

"_What was that?"_

His eyes widened to the leader who was already opening the case.

"_What was what?"_

"_I heard something—" _

"_It's a dam, Adler. There are all kinds of noises!" _

Suddenly a moan of pain echoed through the chamber. This sent Seven squirming. Adric kept a hold on the wolf but his body went rigid. There was no doubt anymore. That was Pandora's cry of pain. He pressed his torso against the wall and peered in. The door was made of bars making it easy to see inside. The scene he saw horrified him, but more than that it fueled his anger. They had Pandora chained and suspended from the ground. She was barely touching the floor with her toes. Her face and body was beaten and bloody. After a moment of allowed horror he counted the number of rebels. 8. One of them wore glasses. He quickly identified that one as Nyx Starson.

"Not yet, Pedersen," the squadron leader whispered to him.

Nyx approached Pandora and smiled.

"8 hours—still no sign of rescue. Looks like you're just as expendable as the rest."

Pandora vocal chords struggled to make any sound, after a few rasps she gave up.

"Adler, unchain her."

She gasped as the chains around her body were loosened. It felt strange to have her feet on the ground, and stranger when she realized she couldn't find her footing. Her knees buckled instantly. She dropped to the floor like a fly. Her body looked like a bloody pile of bones.

"I wanted to give you one final gift before you meet your fate, Miss Sullivan. Something to remember us revolutionaries by."

In his hands was a metal pole but something was attached to the end. He held it inside the flames of several candles and continued to speak. Her cheek was pressed against the cold floor. She was trying to push herself up but she could barely feel her hands.

"Turn her over."

She screamed as one of the rebels flipped her over like it was nothing. Her back collided with the ground.

"Pin her arm to the ground."

"Left or right?"

Nyx was staring at the glowing metal, "Let's make it the right."

"No—" she faintly managed, but her fight was easily overpowered. Her fingers spread as the rebel extended her arm and pressed it to the ground, palm up. When Nyx pulled the pole away from the flames she realized what it was. It was a brander. Instantly she started flailing on the ground but the rebel had his knee on her chest and his hand pinning her arm down.

Above Adric glanced to the squadron leader.

"We have to do something—"

Numbers were blinking on the device's screen. It was charging, preparing.

"Not yet," he repeated.

"They're hurting her," he whispered, finding it hard to keep his voice low.

"Breathe, Pedersen, we have to be smart. If we get out of order than we won't have the upper hand." He tapped the device and nodded, "One more minute."

Pandora's huffs quickly turned into screams as she fought against the rebel holding her down. For the first time since she had been captured she looked at his face. She had only really seen Nyx, the rest were blurs. Whether it was the fear or adrenaline she suddenly felt her vision clear. She could see the rebel's features. He looked like a normal kid, he was young and yet there was darkness and malice in his eyes.

"Please—you're hurting me!"

Nyx smiled as he loomed over her. He swung the brander over her face and laughed as she closed her eyes. She could hear the metal whistling, feel the heat hovering over her face.

"Tell me, Miss Sullivan. Are you afraid?"

She struggled to open her eyes. The brander was still swinging in front of her face when she finally did, still glowing. Her breaths shook as she twitched her eyes around for a moment and trembled.

"I think she's trying to speak—" the rebel holding her down said.

"Oh?" Nyx smiled, placing his boot on her stomach, "Speak then."

She grimaced as the rage surged through her. The sudden words came out like an animalistic growl laced with spite. "When I get out of here I'm going to kill you with my bare hands!"

He laughed in amusement, as did his rebel friend.

"We'll see about that."

Abruptly the brander stopped swinging and his smile grew. She felt the metal burn her skin before it even touched her. He pressed it so hard against her tender flesh that she thought it was going straight to her bone. Her legs kicked in a rush of pain. A blood-curdling scream writhed from her lungs into the damp air.

Seven whimpered against Adric's chest.

"10 seconds," the leader whispered, "9."

Adric pulled Seven closer and narrowed his eyes. He was trying to steady his heartbeat. He had to keep his rationality. His hands reached for the gun only to put it on the ground. A gun wasn't going to be of much use now. If Mironov was right the device would disarm all guns.

"Shh—" Adric whispered to Seven, "Steady breaths."

Suddenly he could feel the weight of the blade around his belt. Felt the muscles in his back and hands. He was glad all the guns were going to be rendered useless. The rebels didn't know what pain was and he would be obliged to show them how much your body could hurt with his own two hands.

"5 seconds."

He imagined all the other soldiers preparing as he was.

"4 seconds."

Slowly he let go of Seven and pulled the door open. It creaked but the noise didn't register with the rebels who were too busy torturing Pandora.

"3 seconds."

"Stay…" he whispered to the wolf. The wolf obeyed.

"2 seconds."

Pandora let out a shrieked and threw her head back just as they let her go. She pulled her arm close to her and panted as hot tears streamed down her face. Her eyes rolled around. The pain was coursing through her body, it burned and scorched all the way to her brain—but then something strange happened. It was stranger that she noticed than that it happened. All the flames in the room suddenly went still. The air was motionless.

A prickle at the back of her neck told her something was up.

From the darkness a howl suddenly sang.

A gasp of air filled her lungs. Seven.

The rebels suddenly scattered. Pandora clutched her hand and tried to get up only to fall back down.

Soldiers were streaming into the room.

"Use your guns!" Nyx shouted.

A few tried to fire but the guns were jammed. The device had worked.

Adric jumped from a set of stairs with Seven growling to his side. The rebels may have been surprised but they organized fast.

"Adric!" Pandora wailed, she was trying to crawl to him but Nyx grabbed her legs and dragged her back.

The wall of rebels between him and Pandora muffled her scream but he still heard her. He widened his eyes and tried to run through them but they weren't giving up without a fight. Even Seven was having problems getting to Pandora.

Nyx grabbed a handful of her hair and started pulling her screaming body away from the fight. She saw the gleam of his knife as he unsheathed it. She was helpless as he dropped her to the floor and placed his hand around her throat. He lifted her body up like it was nothing. Her feet dangled in midair.

"No!" Adric roared as he left-hooked one rebel and slashed his throat with one swift motion. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. "Get away from her!"

But Nyx barely heard him, even if he did he wouldn't have listened. He lifted the knife into the air and pressed the flat surface against Pandora's face.

"Time's up," he hatefully whispered.

She tried to kick him but she couldn't move her legs. He tightened his grip around her throat and lowered the knife to her stomach. Her hands thrashed at his face and arm but he didn't stop. She started screaming in fear like a child. She knew what was going to happen before it did. The point easily sliced through her shirt, further into her skin. Searing pain hollowed out her stomach as the knife slid into her and a breathless gasp widened her lips. Her body twitched against the pain.

"No!" Adric's scream sounded like shattered glass.

As much as it hurt to feel the blade ripe through skin, muscle, and tissue it hurt even more when he pulled it out of her. Her hand clutched the wound as she landed on her feet and stumbled around for a few seconds. In mere seconds her fingers and palms were coated in thick oozing blood. She pulled them away and stared for a second of disbelief.

"Adric…" she whispered. Her eyes widened like a little girl's as she stumbled in place and looked up to him. They locked eyes. Blood dripped as she dropped.

Adric only froze for a heartbeat before rage took over. He yelled in anger and shoved one of the rebels away like a ragdoll. Nyx was making a run for it, but he wasn't moving fast enough. Adric caught up to him before he even managed to reach the door. Nyx was older but Adric was stronger. He grabbed the rebel by the collar of his shirt and tossed him against the wall, kicking him swiftly and punching him repeatedly as more yells bellowed from him. In that instant all he saw was red, all he heard was white noise. He was beating him to a pulp. His arm wrapped around Nyx's neck. He was going to snap his neck. He was going to feel all the bones break.

"Pedersen, stop!"

He bared his teeth and turned to the side. The squadron leader was walking towards him carefully.

"Get away!" he roared.

"Adric, we need him! He needs to stay alive!"

"Like hell."

"Pedersen, that's an order straight from your father! Stand down!"

His mouth was filling with acid. He wanted so badly to kill the man right there but his brain was clearing. Orders. He had to listen to orders. With flared nostrils he let go of Nyx and staggered back. His hands cupped the sides of his head as he saw some of the soldiers rush to Nyx's limp body and bind him.

"You'll be okay…" he heard someone say behind him.

His eyes shifted to the side. His body turned. One of the soldiers was leaning over Pandora's body. Seven was lying nearby whimpering.

He stumbled towards her and knelt down. When the soldier tried to pick her up Adric shove him away and narrowed his eyes, "Don't touch her."

All the blood was draining out of her face. She looked mangled and swollen. As he moved closer to Pandora her eyes opened slowly.

"Finnick?" she rasped deliriously.

"It's going to be alright," he replied, "You'll be alright."

But she was bleeding out and she was bleeding out fast. They had an hour tops before she would be gone.

He ripped a piece of his uniform off and pressed it against the knife wound. When he picked her up she winced. Her limbs wilted like flower petals. Pandora Sullivan was dying in his arms.


	31. Let The Fever Make the Water Rise

_Let The Fever Make That Water Rise_

Storm clouds from the mountains shook the jet in midair. They were flying through the sky, flying as fast as the engine allowed. Pandora's lips were purple. Her eyes were half moons and though Adric tried his hardest to keep the pressure on the wound blood was starting to seep onto the metal floor. Each breath that past her lips was rasped and serrated.

"Help—me."

A cry ruptured from her as Adric pressed his hand against the wound, blotting the gushing blood as well as he could. His uniform was ripped. Blood covered his hands and sleeves. His electric blond hair was disheveled.

"Stay awake," he whispered back, "Stay with me."

Blood loss was causing her vision to fluctuate between haziness and clarity. Despite the deep wound in her torso she was starting to feel less and less pain. This of course was a bad sign—but she was too delusional to understand that.

Turbulence rattled them sending Adric's balance off for a split second. The sound of thunder was rumbling around them. The storm was bad.

"Don't we have a medic's kit on board?!" He shouted, anxiously studying Pandora's face.

The squadron leader stumbled towards them. "Normally this kind of jet has a medic, no reason to have a kit—unfortunately we have neither right now."

"I'm dying—" she wheezed through a cry.

"No, no. Sh."

Her eyes rolled back into her head. At this point she could feel every drop of blood that was trickling out of the wound. Even when she was taken out of the arena she hadn't felt like this. She could feel death's hands on her.

"Hey!" He slapped her face as her eyes started to close, "Keep them open! You hear me?!"

"Capitol's coming into view!" A pilot screamed from the cockpit of the jet.

"Take us to the PSO!"

Adric's hand was still on her cheek when he lifted his eyes and urgently whipped his head around.

"No! The infirmary! She needs a doctor!"

"My orders are to—"

"Dammit, she's dying! Our orders were to save her and if we don't get her to Viktor Mironov she's going to be a corpse!"

The squadron leader silently looked around for a heartbeat before scrunching his face together and shaking his head.

"The infirmary it is."

Everyone on board braced themselves as the aircraft took a nose dive through lightning clouds and soared to the left. The only thing holding Pandora in place were Adric's hands.

"She must be some model," a soldier whispered, "All this for a girl."

Hearing that Adric shifted his eyes to the buckled in soldiers and glared, "Watch your mouth!"

"That's enough! No fights!" The squadron leader shouted, "Pedersen get her ready, the infirmary's coming into view now!"

"How do you think we're going to explain the midnight jet landing to the public?" The same mouthy soldier asked.

The leader rubbed his stubble and swallowed loudly, "Routine testing."

Adric scooped his hand around her neck and gently let go of the wound. Blood flooded out. He grimaced as he picked up her legs with his other hand and felt the reverberation of the jet lowering onto solid ground. He could hear how shallow her breaths were.

"Don't worry. We're almost there."

"I can't—I can't feel anything," she was crying. She tried to reach for his uniform to hold onto but she could barely move her eyes let alone her arm.

"You'll be okay, everything will be okay."

His lips mashed together. He didn't know if he believed his own words or not.

A strong gust of ice wind blew into the aircraft as soon as the ramp louder. Adric had already started to run before the exit was fully opened. He could hear her crying out as he jumped onto the roof and rushed towards the awaiting medics.

"We need a gurney!" one of them shouted into a device.

"Sir, we have to take her now!"

But Adric glared at them, refusing to hand her over. He pushed past a few, "Where's Dr. Mironov?!"

"Sir—"

"It's alright! Let him carry her!" Mironov suddenly appeared on the roof. His lab coat was blowing in the wind, "Follow me."

For a moment Adric dropped his eyes to Pandora's face and adjusted her in his arms. She didn't have much more time.

They were heading for the stairs. A few flights had past when Mironov, who was leading the way, pushed through a set of doors and marching into a sterile corridor. The gurney was waiting.

"Put her down, just there." He whispered to Adric.

Hesitantly he obeyed. At this point Pandora was dead weight. Her body sunk into the thin padding of the gurney like a ton of bricks.

"What happened?"

Adric tried to brush his hair back into it's normal neatly swept side part only to smear blood on his face. He was wrestling to come up with an explanation. Everything had happened so fast.

"She was stabbed—stabbed in the side—"

Mironov leaned over Pandora just as the gurney started moving. Her eyes fluttered in response to the passing helium lights overhead.

"Pandora? Can you hear me?"

She closed her eyes for a moment and whimpered.

"Adric—" she whispered.

Adric's lips parted. He stumbled close behind. When she said his name her eyes frantically darted around. Her hand managed to rise for a brief second before it fell back down.

"I'm here," he was beside Mironov now. "I'm right here."

"He left me."

His brow furrowed.

"What?"

Hot tears streamed out of her eyes.

"He's gone."

Suddenly Adric realized what she was talking about. Finnick. Of course that's who she'd be thinking about at a time like this. He could see fear and pain in her eyes. He hated it. His hand gripped hers.

"I'm right here, alright? Pandora, do you hear me?"

Her brown eyes were glossy and wild. She knew his hand was on her hand but she couldn't feel it. All she could feel was the blood pouring out of her.

"Pandora?!"

Her eyes moved to Adric's face. It looked fuzzy but she could see his hair clearly. It looked like the color of light. Quickly she took in a sharp breath and groaned.

"Yes…I can hear you."

"I'm not going to leave you. I'm never going to leave you—okay? I promise you."

The wheels of the gurney sped towards the operating room. They crashed through the doors. All medics were prepared. Equipment had been prepped. The gurney stopped, someone locked the wheels to keep it stationary.

Pandora could hear people shouting, smell the sterile odor. Faces she recognized and ones she didn't swirled around her body. Adric's hand was still on hers when she slowly turned her face to side. What she saw should have caused something to stir inside her but she was surprisingly unmoved. She was staring at a wall with an observation window and standing dead center behind the glass was President Snow. He was watching her. She twitched her fingers and rasped.

"He's there."

"Who?"

Her face was still turned away from the chaos that was happening around her, still turned towards the observation window.

"He's—watching me—"

Adric worriedly let his eyes rise to the window. His face darkened with confusion as soon as he spotted Snow.

"What a pretty rose he always wears—" she feverishly whispered.

"Pandora?"

"Adric, I'm afraid you'll have to move now," Mironov whispered.

Pandora felt a tear roll out of her eyes as she continued to look at Snow, "It's all gone."

Her heart was slowing, she could feel it. At that moment she could only think of her family, of the people that she had left behind, faces flashed through her memories. A single thought occurred to her—she should have been braver. The machines started erratically beeping.

"Something's wrong," Adric said back to Mironov, "She's not making sense!"

"Because she's been stabbed! Please Adric you need to move away."

"Will we meet through the pine," her voice broke in the middle of her song.

Her vision was darkening. Darkening more than it had ever done before.

"Doctor her heartbeat!"

Her eyes shut just as her heart stopped.

"No!" Adric screamed.

Snow took a step towards the glass.

Mironov's eyes widened for the smallest second before he turned to the machines. The heart monitor had completely flat lined.

"Get the paddles ready!"

His hands fumbled for the surgical scissors. The blades quickly cut through her shirt and sweater. Her torso was a gory mess. Her head was lifelessly slumped to the side.

"Charge them to 200!" he quickly added rolling up his sleeves.

"What's going on!?" Adric's instinct was to get closer but Mironov spun around and pushed him away.

"Leave, Adric!"

"No—What's happening?!"

"She has no heartbeat! You need to let me work."

Adric felt his knees buckle for an instant. Instead of listening he jumped forward.

"I said leave!" Mironov growled.

Tears were forming in Adric's eyes, but before he could say another word some of the medics were pulling on him, dragging him away. He fought as best he could but he was fatigued and shell-shocked. All he could do was stare at Pandora's lifeless form.

Mironov grabbed the paddles and closed his eyes as he drew in a breath. He needed to be the calm one. He was running this show, this wouldn't be the first heart he jump started. He solemnly peered at Pandora's face before pressing the paddles against her chest.

Electricity punched through her body and made her back arch.

No heartbeat.

"400!"

He rubbed the paddles together and felt the electricity concentrating.

"C'mon, Pandora…" he whispered under his breath.

Again. No heartbeat.

"No, no, no. Don't give up."

The paddles dropped out of his hands.

Adric was clawing at the door, he was screaming something but Mironov couldn't make it out. His blue eyes filled with fear as he placed his palms against her chest and started to rhythmically press.

"1...2…3…4…5…"

He tilted her head up and blew air into her lungs.

Several times he did this and each time there was no response—only the flat line on the monitor screen.

"Doctor I think we need to call it."

He cupped his hand over his mouth and paused. He was trying to hold back tears.

"Sir?!"

"No."

"Sir she's dead!"

He heard Adric cried out and felt his bad leg ache.

One look at Pandora's face was all he needed to regain his confidence.

"I said no!"

He pursed his lips and laced his fingers together. He wasn't going to give up on her. He was going to bring her back even if it meant breaking her sternum to do it.

His balled hands pummeled her chest.

The first did nothing.

Neither did the second.

But when his fists came down on her for the third time a spike beeped on the monitor.

A rush of air filled Pandora with a dry shriek. Her eyes opened so suddenly that it caused her whole body to jolt and her hands to grab the gurney sheets with a spasm.

At that moment everyone in the operating room gasped in shock. A few of the medics jumped back. Mironov even yelped in surprise, but a smile quickly spread across his face.

"I need blood now! B positive!...Pandora?"

She was shaking.

"Everthing's fine. I'm going to fix you."

It was beginning to be Mironov's motto. Her head slumped back down onto the sweaty gurney and her eye lifted to the ceiling.

"Knock her out."

"Is that smart? She just came back from the dead, sir!"

Mironov strapped on his surgical masked and placed his hand on Pandora's cheek for a split second, "If we don't then I won't be able to sew up the wound, she'll be in too much pain. This is my operation room, my rules. When I tell you to do something you simply do it. Knock her out."

The medic scrambled for the drug and medical towel. She drenched it only a little before placing it over Pandora's mouth. Pandora furrowed her brow but was barely able to lift a finger before blackness washed away the whiteness of the surgical room. It was different than dying she deliriously thought, different because she didn't feel at peace when she went under this time—different because there were nightmares waiting beyond the blackness for her.

Mironov was able to fix Pandora, as he promised, but she remained unconscious for several days after. Her face had been punched and battered so much that when she did open her eyes with clarity for the first time the cuts were still visible. There was stiffness in her arms and drowsiness in her feet that she remembered from her times after the arena. She didn't realize she had been rehabilitating in her apartment until she was finally able to sit up for the first time and stare out of the windows.

Medics alone had streamed in and out of her bedroom during those days. The only other thing that stuck out in her mind was a crystal vase of white roses that were freshly placed near her bed everyday—presumably from President Snow. After two full weeks of recuperation, the medics soon disappeared.

She was alone.

Her body was turned away from the doors when she heard a familiar set of feet. She sat on the edge of her bed—her back hunched, her eyes coldly stared out of the windows. He let the door creak open for several seconds before stepping forward. He stopped near her line of sight but she didn't look up at him.

"How are you feeling?"

Her eyes were stony. She crossed her arms without reply. The brand on her arm was almost healed over. The mark of the rebels—it would be scarred on her forever.

Adric moved his lips but he realize he didn't know what to say.

"Are you thirsty? I think maybe you should be drinking more than you have."

Again, she was silent.

"Pandora, you have to speak some time. You've been through hell and back, I know. I just—you can't live like this. Talk to me."

She blinked but there was no sign of emotion in her face.

He knelt to her side and tried to place his hand on her knee but she gently gave it back to him and tilted her head away.

"Please let me help. I'm your friend."

There it was—Adric's favorite thing to say to her. This time it didn't make her uncomfortable or angry, it simply was said. She lifted her brown eyes for a heartbeat and parted her lips.

"You—" Adric's eyes widened in surprise that she spoke. "You're my friend?"

"Yes. Always."

Not once had she looked at him but now she decided she needed to, "And you would do something for me?"

"Whatever you want."

"You still have Nyx Starson in your custody?"

"Yes. He's being interrogated for information—but he's holding up. It won't be long before someone mentions the word execution. Within a few days it will probably be announced."

Thoughtfully she traced the branding on her arm and kept her lips straight. The bracelet Dash had given to her long ago wasn't around her wrist anymore. It was on the side table. She hadn't bothered putting it on again. Suddenly it was felt to heavy.

"I want to see him. I want to see him for the execution."

"Pandora—why? He tortured you, he nearly killed you, you shouldn't have to see him ever again."

"I know."

Adric moved away, "Then why would you want to see him?"

Slowly Pandora met Adric's gaze and coldly lifted her chin, "Because I want to be the one that kills him."


	32. Check the Cupboard for Your Daddy's Gun

_Check the Cupboard For Your Daddy's Gun _

"You can't be serious!"

"Watch it, boy."

Adric took a step back and blinked his eyes in restrained shocked. They were in one of the many offices of President Snow. In front of him Snow was sitting at his desk with General Trajan—Adric's father—standing at his side. Mironov was also there, Adric had asked him to be there.

President Snow rubbed his swollen lips for a moment in thought before smiling, "I think it's a wonderful gesture. Wonderful."

"Mr. President—" Mironov cut in, trying to remain as seemingly indifferent as he could, "Miss Sullivan is emotionally compromised right now. We have to give her time. She's not a trained executioner, she's simply a woman—a woman that has been through a lot."

"She wants to help us and I think it would be a great injustice to not give her the condolences she deserves."

"If you want to help her then why not send her back to District 7 for a few days—"

"Adric!" Mironov put his hand on Adric's shoulder and shook his head.

"But she didn't ask for that did she, Officer?" Snow cooed, rising from his chair, "She asked for this. This was her wish."  
"She's in shock!" Adric objected, fearfully peering to his father, "She doesn't know what she's saying. You didn't see her, she was out of it. She barely looked like she was all there..."

"Is this true, Viktor? Is our Miss Sullivan mentally incapable of making reasoned requests?"

Mironov knew what Snow was doing—he had done it many times before. He asked him a question he already knew the answer to in order to prove a point. It was true…Pandora wasn't mentally unstable. She wasn't even in shock from what had happened to her. Pandora was angry.

"No, but I believe she is doing this for revenge."

"It's not revenge if the person is a criminal."

Adric furrowed his brow. Something was happening that he didn't have a strong hold on and he hated it. Mironov stumbled over a few words before clearing his throat and starting over.

"Sir, in my professional opinion it would not be healthy to allow Pandora Sullivan to do this. I have been her therapist for over a year now. I know her. She is being blinded by her own hate and she thinks this is going to solve her problems. She thinks this is going to heal her."

Snow let out a cruel laugh and glanced to General Trajan, "A little dramatic don't you think? It's not like she hasn't killed anyone before."

Disgust rose in Adric's stomach. He quickly turned away and put his hand over his mouth.

"That was different. That was survival. Letting her do this would be erroneous on our parts."

"I don't see how, if anything she should get a medal for it. I think it's ingenious. I should like to talk to her, of course."

"Of course," Trajan agreed.

"Sir—"

"That's enough now. There's nothing left to discuss. Tonight. It will happen tonight."

Adric's hand moved to the side of his face as he stared at Mironov. The doctor's eyes were bulging out of his skull. Rarely did he show symptoms of worry—his bedside manner seemed to blend in with the rest of his life—but it was clear that at this moment he was worried. He swallowed hard and took a step back.

Without another word Adric marched through the office and out the door, followed close behind by Mironov. Despite the doctor's limp he managed to catch the elevator just before the doors closed.

They rode in silence. Adric nervously unbuttoned the top of his uniform and licked his lips. His head felt like it was on fire.

"Viktor, you said you've been dosing her."

Mironov stayed silent.

"Could this be a side effect?"

"No."

"But all drugs have side effects."

"Believe me, Adric, this is not a side effect. The drug acts to strengthen cerebral activity. I've been giving it to her in such small increments that it wouldn't cause this. It's creates migraines occasionally, not mood swings."

Adric rubbed his lip, "But it—this can't be Pandora. She looked so angry and distant."

"That's because she is angry, Adric. I think we've miscalculated her breaking point."

"You told them she's not mentally unstable, though."

"Because she's not. Everyone has a breaking point, it just so happens that Pandora's was harder to break—"

"She hates the Capitol—why would she want to execute a rebel? Even if they tortured her, they're fighting for District freedoms. I want him dead more than anything but I'm loyal to the Capitol. You and I both know that Pandora's position and presence here is forced to a point."

Mironov took his glasses off and sighed, "Because I think she just realized for the first time that not everything is black and white."

Adric clenched his jaw and his fist. Suddenly he realized the only possible way to stop this. The elevator doors opened. He didn't look at Mironov as he exited, and Mironov didn't look at him. A goal formed in his head and he started to chase that goal. He ignored the car that was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps and quickened his pace. With his long strides and a boiling urgency fueling him he made it to her apartment door in just under 30 minutes. He knew this because he was watching the clock—an unconscious habit of his.

The door swooshed open efficiently.

Pandora's apartment furniture had been replaced since she had been abducted and saved. Even mirrors had been replaced, but there were still scratches in the floor from the shatter glass and rage, evidence that it all happened. Evidence that Finnick had left and she was alone.

Adric froze as Pandora came into the main area through the bedroom. She had showered for the first time since she had been rescued. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was even wearing a trimmed outfit and makeup. A cut on her lip and near her eyebrow could still be seen. Without smiling she glanced to Adric and started to put a pair of earrings on.

"I need to talk to you."

Pandora dropped her eyes and picked up a pair of boots she had carried in with her before taking a seat.

"So talk."

"You know that you'll regret this, don't you?"

She pulled the first boot on and vacantly stared ahead, "Do I?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

"I thought you'd be pleased. After all he's a rebel. I thought it was the military's duty to kill rebels."

"I am not pleased with this—" for some reason his words reminded him of his father, "Pandora, you're upset. I understand."

She laughed darkly and fastened a few of the buckles, "No you don't. You have no idea. I was in a hole for days, helpless and bleeding. They branded me like an animal. They tortured me. Even when I screamed for them to stop they didn't. And all I could think was _why me_? How pathetic is that? My father was a part of this coming rebellion—I'm sure you knew that. Saw that in the files President Snow has on me. I had no clue when I was little, when he was hanged I thought it was for stealing too much food or bartering with people he shouldn't be bartering with. When I found out the real reason something sparked in me. I thought the rebels were brave for believing, for hoping—" she almost sounded like she was about to cry but a quick pause changed that, "—now I see what it's all about."

"Which is?"

"They're fools."

She only side-glanced him before picking up the other boot.

"It's eat or be eaten," she continued, "And in the short amount of time I've lived I've been consumed and spit out over and over again."

"If you think you're being brave by doing this you're wrong. This man should pay the price for what he's done but it shouldn't be at your hands."

"The world's a dark and cruel place, Adric. Perhaps you've forgotten that or maybe you never knew that. You haven't seen and experienced what I have. You don't know how hard it is to go through life with fear. I'm done being afraid. I'm done hiding in the shadows and waiting to be eaten again."

He drew back and grinded his teeth. So far the intervention wasn't working. He was grasping at straws.

"This is because Finnick is gone. You're just having problems coping because he's gone."

Her fingers stopped moving. Her eyes lifted, landing on his face with unblinking intensity.

"I'm done with Finnick."

"That's not the point though is it?"

"No. The point is this, the only emotions I feel for Finnick Odair is hate. I hate him, you understand me? I don't hate him for leaving. I hate that he was too much of a weakling to stay in the first place. And trust me when I say that this has nothing to do with him."

"Then why did you call for him…you called for him when you were bleeding to death."

She stood up and adjusted the small collar of her shirt.

"Do you think I'm that obvious, Adric?"

"No—I'm just—"

"No, of course not. You think that I'm suffering from a great emotional loss. You think I need you to save me."

He parted his lips. His eyes widened. "I think you're hurt and sometimes when a person gets hurt enough they start to believe that the only answer is to hurt back."

"I'm not a wounded dove, Adric."

Her boots thumped against the floor as she past him. He turned around and shook his head.

"If you do this, Pandora, you won't be able to take it back. What's dead stays dead, but you'll have to live with his face in the night. It will be another face in your nightmares."

"Good," she whispered back. "You know it's funny, really, because if it wasn't me who was going to pull that trigger you would be happy to watch him die."

"Yes."

She narrowed her eyes, "So why does it mean so much to you, huh? Are you that much of hypocrite?"

He had to look away. He felt sick and light headed, but something pulled his eyes back to Pandora's face and as he looked he didn't try to hide the sadness.

"It matters to me because you aren't a killer and you seem to be trying so hard to be one. It matters to me because someone like you shouldn't want to kill another human being."

"Someone like me?"

"Yes."

"So tell me, Adric, who am I? This is normally how this goes isn't it? You tell me how I am, we fight, you proclaim you're undying loyalty to me. So tell me how good I am, tell me that I need time. C'mon, I'm waiting…"

"I think you're lost."

"Oh this is a new one. "

His eyes stayed on her face as he tensed his jaw, "I think you actually believe that doing this is going to push out all those dark memories. You can't stomach you're on pain. You know…I've always admired you, Pandora. You always thought you were never brave enough, but you were. You were one of the bravest people I had ever met. But right now you're a coward and what's worse is you're a coward who actually thinks they're entitled. If you're going to kill this man at least admit you're doing it to make yourself feel better."

Pandora dropped her eyes and rubbed her lips together. It took her a second to absorb everything he had said, like swallowing an arsenic-laced pill. Her lips shook once she lifted her eyes again. Her face seemed darker, graver.

"And you know what, Pandora?"

"What?" it was harsh and bitter as she said it.

"I'm going to be standing right by you when you put a bullet in this man's head, and when you do it I want you to remember we had this conversation."

He started walking towards the door but she whirled around and grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait—"

He met her eye line but with reservation.

For a moment she looked like she was going to cave. Her lips parted and her cheeks flushed. She almost looked apologetic, but the longer she stared at him the more her face hardened. He noticed every muscle movement in her changing expressions and stepped away from her hand. He remembered what he had promised her as she was being carted into the operation room. He had said he'd stay with her, loyally. Nothing had changed since then. She had been abandoned by so many people, left in the dark…the fear was very tangible to her and he could see that fear in her eyes right now.

"Don't worry, Pandora. I promised I wouldn't leave you. I won't. But I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy."

Even after he left she stood exactly as she was. Her lips twitched into a frown of frustration. Her eyes squinted to the floor. Pandora knew he meant every word he had said but a part of her didn't care. She had made up her mind the moment she came back to life, and she wasn't backing out now.

A scarlet sun was setting. Night was coming. When her driver came to pick her up she was prepared. Her hands rested on her lap without nerves or worry. That was the strangest part of all this—she wasn't nervous. She was stoic and statuesque. Hallways of the PSO slipped through her vision. An escorting soldier was trying to make light of her presence but she barely heard him. Her eyes shifted around once she was escorted into a barren room with chairs and a table. On the right side wall a one-way mirror had been implanted. The room Pandora was in was the observation room.

The execution would be private. Her lips pursed as she studied the empty room beyond the glass that would be the location. She stared at every detail of the room—the pipes, the tile walls, the cement floor—she stared until she heard the door open.

President Snow smiled before he let the door slam shut behind him.

"You can leave us," he whispered to the soldier that had escorted her.

In obedience the soldier left.

Snow cupped his hands behind his back and waltzed next to her. He didn't face her, instead he stared through the glass just as she was doing.

"I was worried you wouldn't make it. For a moment when you're heart stopped I thought that was the end of our relationship, Miss Sullivan."

"How gracious of you to worry," she bitterly replied, "I know how much _our relationship_ means to you."

"I must say I was pleasantly surprised to hear that you volunteered to execute this rebel."

She didn't respond. With every moment that passed with her and Snow alone together, the more she longed that she was shooting him in the head too.

"A woman scorned, is that how that saying goes?"

"I'm not familiar with that one."

"You're so brave, Miss Sullivan, I do commend you. These rebels, well they're like insects, you see."

Pandora recalled Adric's words and dropped her eyes. Snow's prejudices should have made her doubt her actions but they didn't. If anything she wanted to get it over with sooner now. She wasn't doing this to damn the rebels. Adric had been right—she was doing this for herself, and no matter how much Adric told her she wasn't entitled to pull the trigger she knew she was.

"If you wouldn't mind I was enjoying the silence before you came in."

"Oh—my mistake," he pulled out his pocket watch, "But I'm afraid it's almost time."

As if on cue the door opened and several people were ushered in. There were military men of various ranks. Pandora recognized a handful. General Trajan stood at the front. Adric was to his side—he wouldn't look at Pandora.

"I think we've gotten all we can get out him, Mr. President. He refuses to relent any information about the rebels."

Snow nodded, "Alright, bring him in then."

Metal churned close by. Pandora turned back to the window just as the door to the other room opened. Nyx Starson was dragged into the center of the room and chained to the ground. He looked like he had been tortured for information but Pandora felt no sympathy for him, she didn't even feel pity. He shouted obscenities at the soldiers that were restraining him and laughed like a madman.

"Ready?" Adric was suddenly to her side, staring at her.

She peered to him and nodded, "Yes."

They passed by the audience of military personnel and out the door. Adric closed his eyes for a few seconds before pushing the neighboring door open and letting Pandora go in.

She waited calmly for Nyx to look up before she took her first step into the execution room. It was colder in here. The air was staler. She could hear the lights above buzzing and hesitated to move again when she caught sight of their reflections in the one-way mirror.

Adric followed close behind, shutting the door before turning towards Nyx.

"Well isn't this a treat…" Nyx mumbled with a laugh.

Pandora stared down at him silently.

"Come to see me die? And here you were saying you're so good—" his eyes dropped to the branded scar on her arm, "At least you have something to remember me by."

She lowered her eyes to scar and tilted her head.

"I think's it's rather pretty." She finally said, "Now every time I look at it I can remember the look on your face when the life left your eyes."

Adric shifted uncomfortably. He did not like that.

She held her hand out with her eyes still on Nyx. Adric pulled his gun from its holster. His eyes sadly dropped as he placed it in her hand and took a step back.

"You and I both know you're a fraud, Miss Sullivan."

She cocked the gun.

"I bet you've never even shot a gun before."

She gripped the handle and pointed it at Nyx.

"You're right. So forgive me if I miss the first few times."

She quickly pulled the trigger aiming at his leg. He screamed in pain.

"Mr. Starson, you surprise me. I didn't know you screamed so loud."

She fired the gun again this time aiming at his arm.

Blood dripped on the cement floor. She walked until she was face to face with him and then she placed the gun under his chin.

"Let me ask you something. Are you afraid?" She mimicked the tone he had used on her when he had asked her the exact same question, when she was bleeding and mangled and screaming in agony. Then—without waiting for an answer—she pulled the trigger for the last time and blew his brains out.


	33. The Splinter

_The Splinter _

Late in the night she arrived back at her apartment. City lights hemorrhaged into the darkness. Silently she walked through room, slowly. Her eyes lifted as soon as she reached the bathroom to the mirror. There was still blood on her knuckles, hands, neck, and clothing. Shooting Nyx Starson in the head as she had made a mess. Although some Avox tried to clean her up by order of President Snow Pandora had pulled away and left the PSO without speaking. Now she was back.

Her brown eyes dully lowered as she started to undress. It felt mechanical to do it, almost as if she wasn't doing it at all. When she was completely naked she stepped into the shower and turned it up as hot as it could go. Steam instantly rose. Her skin scorched. Blood washing down her body and spun around the drain before disappearing. It was several minutes before the water ran clear again. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders and face as she pressed her palms against the tiled wall and hunched forward. Ever since Mironov had brought her back from the dead she was feeding off her own rage. She thought that shooting the rebel would have given her closure, she thought that perhaps it would heal the deep wounds in her heart—but she was wrong. The rage still filled her veins, only now it was muted and warped—now it was more a part of her than before. The image of blood splattering onto the ceiling blinded her for a moment. Without realizing it her fingers went rigid. Her eyes narrowed. They had congratulated her after she had finished, but even still a few of the military officials looked scared. Maybe they saw a madness in her eyes that she had seen moments before when she stared into the mirror. The worst sight after the execution was Adric. He looked pale and perturbed. In that moment of looking at him she had done exactly as he asked—she had thought about their conversation, she had thought about it and felt faint remorse, but only faint.

When she rubbed her lips together the cut in her lip cracked. Suddenly a wave of regret hit her—it hit her so brutally that her head bowed forward and her feet shifted. Truthfully she wasn't sorry she had killed Nyx, but that didn't stop the shame from settling into her skin. If her family found out what she had done—if Dash had seen her do it—they would have gasped in horror. Finnick would have too. Anyone with enough sense would have. That was quickly becoming Pandora's probably though—you couldn't survive off of sense. She heard Finnick's words the night he left her to go back to District 4. He had told her that he loved Annie because she was pure, because she was good. Of course by saying that she knew what he meant now. Pandora had realized before that she had done awful things in the arena and after but now it was more than that. Finnick had seen it. Even those military officials saw as she walked away drenched in blood. She wasn't good. She was flawed and broken. Her wax wings had flown to close to the sun and melted a long time ago. They melted the day she agreed to President Snow's terms. Ever since then she was falling and the longer she fell, the farther the sun became. She was falling into blackness. Perhaps that's why she hated Nyx Starson so much—he had been right about one thing, the worst thing to be right about. She was a betrayer. The time was coming to pick a side but she had a foot in both worlds, a dangerous position to take.

Water stung her skin. The rebel's scar taunted her.

Pandora wasn't a hero, she would never be a hero. The time for chivalry had come and gone. The longer she stared at the drain in her shower the more clearer this became. Tears filled her eyes. She would never go home, but now she was glad. Her family was better off without her. Always they would have the memory of her and always she would have the memory of them, but that's all they would be. Forever she would stay a recollection.

She turned the water off and sank into her bed with dripping wet hair. There was no point in drying off. Time would do that for her.

The next day she awoke from a dreamless sleep and got dressed. She stopped as soon as she entered the living room. Adric was sitting on a sofa. He twitched his eyes to her momentarily before lifting an envelope that was resting in his lap.

"Hello."

She parted her lips in surprise, "H—hello."

He didn't look pale anymore but Pandora could tell that he was having trouble meeting her gaze.

"Happy Birthday. I didn't realize it was today, until I got the invitation."

Her eyes suddenly widened. Her brow furrowed. It was her birthday. She had forgotten. Immediately she lifted her hand to her head and blinked her eyes.

"Thank you, I had—"

"You didn't remember," he quickly observed.

"What invitation?"

He stared at her briefly before rising and giving her the envelope in his hands. She silently took it. She felt nervous around Adric now. For the first time she felt like she was the monster and he was innocent. It was unsettling that he was still willing to be alone with her. Adric had saved her from bleeding out in a dank flood chamber. He had watched her shoot a man in a cold blood. Still he was here. The envelope smelt like roses. It was an invitation to a party. Her birthday party.

She traced her fingertips along the edge of the thick paper, "I—uh—Caradoc must have done this."

"I figured."

Her lips puckered the longer she stared at the invitation. She was desperately trying to formulate words, say anything, but she just felt like crying.

"Adric—"

"Don't."

She looked up at him and nodded, clearing her throat as she sniffed back tears.

"I'm not a monster," she whispered back.

He scanned her face. As his hand touched her arm she dropped her eyes.

"What's done is done."

His eyes and words said move on, and yet Pandora couldn't move on—not fully, not yet or ever.

"I never thanked you for saving my life."

He pulled his hand back, "Viktor saved your life. I just carried you."

Adric turned to walk away but Pandora grabbed him. She waited for him to look at her before she spoke.

"But it means more to me—even if you think you just carried me. Thank you for not leaving. You were right. I was wrong before—I am lost, I feel so lost."

He lowered his gaze to her hand on his shoulder and smiled before placing his hand over hers.

"You're only lost for the moment, Pandora Sullivan. You'll find your way."

"Don't leave me."

She wasn't talking about him leaving this instant, she was speaking in a bigger sense. Everyone had left her. The emptiness she was feeling was just a side effect of that. Adric understood. He quickly glanced to the windows and nodded.

"You don't need to worry about that, kid. There's nothing you can do to get rid of me. You may think it's funny that I keep saying that I'm your friend—but no one should feel abandoned, I know that more than anyone. Just because it's dark doesn't mean the light's gone out completely."

"I don't think its funny anymore. I understand. I'm just sorry I had to die before I understood."

He flashed a grin and raised his eyebrows, "Well you're stubborn."

"Yea—" she said it through a tired laugh, "I am."

"Pandora—if I asked you to do something would you listen?"

She folded the invitation in half and furrowed her brow, "What is it?"

He narrowed his eyes. She could sense that he was holding something back, "I—never mind. It's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

Adric thought of Mironov's explanation of the drug he had been giving Pandora and clenched his jaw. Even if he could put it into words he knew it would go against everything his father taught him, but there was a pain in his stomach telling him something was wrong. It was an urgent pain that he forced into the recesses of his brain.

"Yea. I was just going to say have fun tonight. It is your birthday, you know?"

Across the Capitol, in the office of Doctor Viktor Mironov, sat three people. The first of course was Mironov, the second Snow, and the third General Trajan. Of the three men only Mironov was visibly nervous. He gulped his water and rubbed his bad knee. President Snow adjusted the rose on his lapel and leafed through recent blood work reports and analyses.

"So—it's time."

Trajan's piercing eyes flicked around the office. "Tonight?"

"What? It's her birthday tonight, she isn't fully healed from the trauma her body took with the kidnapping."

Snow glanced to Mironov, "You told me long ago that there is a window we have to meet. A biological window where her brain has reached a point of immersion."

"Yes, but if she isn't fully healed her body won't be able to operate under the stress of the this procedure. I need more time."

"He's making excuses," Trajan accused with harshness in his breath.

Mironov straightened his back, "I am the doctor here. I am the one who knows what needs to be done."

"And you're too much of a coward to do it."

"You may be a General out there but in this office, in my labs and operating room I am the one that makes decisions!"

"No—I am a General all the time. Don't think I haven't noticed you whispering in my boy's ear. You better watch yourself, Viktor."

"Gentleman, Gentleman! Now, now…let's remain civil."

President Snow smiled as he tossed the report onto the coffee table.

"I hate to play favorites, Viktor, but if I didn't know any better I would say you're letting your emotions get in the way of what needs to be done."

Mironov struggled to reply right away. He rubbed his beard, "I know what needs to be done."

"So do it. Tonight. After the party. I'm sure you can have everything prepared by then?"

Mironov wanted to object. If he were brave enough he would have marched out of the building and warned Pandora—maybe Adric. But it was too late for that. He was in the lion's den. He had put himself there. With a ball in his throat he twitched his eyes to Trajan, then to Snow.

"Yes, I can."

The birthday party was to be held at President Snow's mansion. Typical—Pandora thought—as that's where most of the parties were held. Her dress was ivory trimmed in gold. The same sparkling gold decorated her eyes. She smiled and waved as she stepped onto the white carpet and the press took her photos—but inside she felt anxious and sick. Every time she closed her eyes she saw blood. The fatigue she felt was gnawing. Inside the mansion people laughed and drank. There must have been a hundred people in attendance—she saw her old stylists chuckling in a corner, Artorius chugging tonics. Everyone was there. White and gold must have been the color scheme because the place was filled with it. President Snow had gold vases filled with pristine white roses decorating every surface.

She grabbed for a glass of champagne and lifted it to her lips as soon as she arrived.

"Happy Birthday," Kol said as he approached with a devilish smile, "How old?"

"19."

"You're practically an old maid."

Normally she found Kol's banter annoying and obtuse, but in light of recent circumstances it had become tolerable.

"Are you sure you don't want a birthday kiss?"

The glass lifted to her lips as she peered away, "I'd be more willing to kiss your father."

Kol laughed and loosened his tie—a habit Pandora always notice. "Be careful what you wish for, he might take you up on that offer if you ask him nicely. In any case you look lovely."

She lifted her glass his a sarcastic smile, "You're possibly the least charming person I've ever met."

A few cameramen gravitated towards them. Pandora side-glanced one of them just as their camera flashed. They wanted a picture of Kol Flemming and Pandora Sullivan together—something Kol was more than willing to involve himself in. Pandora tried to shake her head and bow out but Kol grabbed her arm and pulled her into a very awkward, almost intolerable embrace. One flash blinded her.

"Get off of me, Kol. I'm not one of your women."

"Smile," he whispered, slowly planting a kiss on her cheek. Instantly another camera flashed.

She widened her eyes and looked up to Kol with jaw dropping expression. He was smiling like a goon, which made her even angrier.

"Happy birthday," he said with a wink. "That'll be enough pictures right now!" he shouted to the cameraman. Regretfully they wandered away.

"We should do that more often."

Pandora narrowed her eyes and shoved him away, "Dammit, Kol."

"Relax, sweetheart, just a joke."

"It wasn't funny."

"I thought it was hilarious. If you want seconds—"

"Kol Flemming, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting with our little Miss Sullivan."

Suddenly the mood shifted. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Pandora stumbled back, even Kol stopped grinning. President Snow glanced between Pandora and Kol with a double bladed smile.

"Mr. President, sir," Kol bowed his head with wide eyes.

Pandora simply stared.

"I hear your father just announced his retirement after next year's Hunger Game. It will be hard to find a replacement for such a creative, awe-inspiring man."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't you think so, Miss Sullivan?"

At that moment all she could think about was Nyx Starson's lifeless body. Her lips twitched haphazardly but no words came out.

"Yes, of course," she finally managed.

"I have to admit I didn't come over here for small talk," Snow continued, "I came to ask to dance with the birthday girl."

Fear bit at Pandora. She peered to Kol who was already starting to back down.

"Actually I was going to dance with Mr. Flemming."

Kol furrowed his brow in shock, "Uh—oh that's alright."

Snow smiled, "Thank you, Kol. I promise I won't keep her away from you for too long."

Before Pandora could utter another syllable Snow gently but firmly grabbed her arm and started walking away with her. She dropped her eyes. Her heart started to race. Everyone was looking at them. It wasn't custom for the President to dance with anyone apart from his wife from time to time. Cameras flashed to document this. Wide-eyed gazes surround her. For the first measures of the song no one else danced—but as the violins swelled they all continued, pretending that what they were witnessing wasn't strange.

Being in the same room with Snow was hard enough, but to feel his hands and know that you couldn't step away was nightmarish. The grossly sweet odor enveloped them. She had never seen his face this close. It was like dancing with doom.

"You're nervous," he observed.

"Are you surprised?" she caught a glimpse of Adric as Snow spun her around.

"What a journey it has been. Has it not?" He was speaking to her as if they were friends saying goodbye. It made Pandora recoil.

"That's one word for it."

"You must believe me when I extend my deepest condolences about Finnick's untimely departure. He's a fool for ever leaving you."

Her instincts were telling her to rip out his throat. She lowered her eyes and tried to seem unmoved.

"As always, President, you're too kind."

"It's all for the best though. These things have a way of working themselves out I find."

Her eyebrow arched. For whatever reason Snow was speaking in finalities. It made her stomach squirm. She dared to look into his snake eyes, only to peer away quickly. He had the look of a man who had won the battle, only Pandora didn't know what battle he had won. She tried to shrug it off—perhaps it was just an extension of the glee he had felt when Pandora pulled the trigger yesterday.

When the song ended President Snow released her and laughed with a clap towards the orchestra. Pandora staggered in her heels before following his actions and trying to smile. She thought she was home free but then Snow grabbed her hand once more and planted a kiss on her hand. His cold eyes locked on hers. There was something behind them. He looked…ecstatic. Her smile faltered for a split second but then she realized everyone was staring. Quickly she bowed and took her hand back, but Snow never stopped smiling.

Near a vase full of roses Mironov pressed his back to the wall and nervously watched the dance. He was rubbing his hands together. His lips trembled. Everything inside him was telling the doctor to stop this madness. It was in his hands, but his hands were shackled. He shifted his eyes to the onlookers. Adric was watching the dance as well. He studied Adric for a long time. A pang rumbled his bones. Adric would never forgive him for this. He wasn't afraid that Adric would kill him, he was afraid that after he did what he promised Snow he was going to do he would want Adric to kill him. His hand shook as he pulled out his pocket watch and eyed the time. Only one more hour. Mironov was a damned man.

Adric caught Pandora as soon as she left the dance floor. She looked worried and pale but Adric ignored that.

"I saw you talking to Kol."

Her eyes moved to him, she grimaced and rubbed her forehead, "He's an ass."

"You look tired. I can get you water."

"No—I—" her eyes landed on Mironov, "What's he doing?"

Adric glanced over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

She tried to get Mironov's attention but he wasn't looking. A cold sweat suddenly formed on her brow. She felt light headed. "I think I'd like to sit."

"Alright."

Adric tried to grab her arm but she pulled it away and started walking to the nearest chair. The cushions sunk as she took a seat and peered around.

"Some party."

Adric had no reply to that. Instead he cleared his throat and nodded.

"What would you do when you were younger? Back—back in District 7?"

Pandora looked at him in surprise. The last thing she wanted to think about was home. Out of habit she reached for the bracelet around her wrist only to find that her wrist was naked. She quickly remembered where she had left it, unworn.

"I would um…" she couldn't look away from Mironov, something about him was different, he hadn't spoken to her once, "…it was nothing special. Just sitting with my family, normally one of my brothers would have whittled something for the occasion. Just a trinket, really…as a gift. They always wanted me to sing for them. They liked it when I did that."

"It's healthy to talk about these things," his voice was barely a whisper, "It's healthy to remember."

Pandora rubbed her hands together and awkwardly nodded, "I don't want to remember anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do though," she was staring at the dancers, "I wish I could forget it all. It would make it much easier that way."

Adric leaned back in his chair, "I suppose you're right, but then you wouldn't be you anymore."

"Maybe it would be better that way."

He dropped his eyes in disbelief.

Pandora could feel the tension growing between them. One look across the room at President Snow and she felt the world melting away into tar. Everything was darker now. Even in a room full of white roses, gold, and candlelight it felt black.

"You shouldn't say those things," he finally responded.

She glanced to him and nodded, "Right. I shouldn't."

"One day you'll see them again. One day. I promise you."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Adric."

"If it were up to me—"

"What you're saying is unnecessary. It's fine. Everything is fine. I'm not the girl I used to be," the memory of the gunshot rang in her ears, "I'm different, and I'm fine with that, really I am. I grew up and when you grow up sometimes it means leaving family behind."

He slowly moved his chair closer to hers and glanced around the party. He bit at his lip and rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

"When I was much younger my mother died."

Pandora kept her façade up.

"She died giving birth to my still-born brother. The doctors said the pain had been too much for her. I was too young to understand what death was—I remember asking where she was, when she was coming back. After a while I realized that she was never coming back."

Pandora crossed her legs and looked away. "That must have been hard."

"Life is hard."

"Yes, it is."

He cleared his throat and straightened his back, "But I would never say I wished I could forget my mother. You don't simply leave family behind, Pandora, it doesn't just happen as you grow up. You chose whether or not they're worth holding onto—even if you can't see them, or be with them."

She closed her eyes. He was right, and she knew it. Her heart hurt. Slowly she reached for his knee.

"You're a good friend, Adric Pedersen."

He stared at her hand and then glanced at her face. She wasn't looking at him, but he could tell her attention was on him. It was the first time she had called him her friend.

"Pandora?"

Suddenly Adric looked up. Mironov was standing in front of them. Pandora took her hand back and stood up.

"Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Viktor."

Mironov glanced at Adric and furrowed his brow, "I would like to speak with you alone, Pandora."

Adric narrowed his eyes, "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just want to be alone with the birthday girl."

Pandora twitched her eyes between them and smiled. "Alright, Viktor."

She put her hand in his and nodded to Adric. They crossed the large room and walked further into a study Pandora had never been into. It was Snow's personal study. Books filled shelves. A dusty desk was piled with pictures. The room looked surprisingly normal.

"You look beautiful tonight, dear."

She turned around. Mironov was anxious. He was having trouble looking at her. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow.

"Thank you and thanks for sewing me up," she placed her hand over where Nyx had stabbed her, "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"I'm glad you're alright."

"Viktor…what's the matter? You look upset."

He rubbed his beard and nodded, "Do you think I'm a good man, Pandora?"

She blinked her eyes, "Well, I'm not sure I'm the best judge of that sort of thing."

Mironov put his hands in his pockets, "I'm not. I'm a coward."

"What's going on?"

She could hear the music of the party. It was suddenly loud.

"I'm so sorry, Pandora. I hope you forgive me one day."

"What?"

A door behind her abruptly opened. She spun around in surprise only to stumble back. Trajan was flagged by two high security soldiers—further behind them was President Snow. Her brow creased. Fear stirred her bones.

"Miss Sullivan," Trajan nodded to her.

"Why are you here?"

President Snow adjusted his cufflinks and took a few steps forward, "Viktor, if you'd do the honors."

She felt the muscles in her arms go rigid. "Viktor—" before she could turn around to finish she felt something prick her shoulder. Her eyes dropped. A syringe filled her veins with something that burned. "—what are you doing?!"

She shoved Mironov away and tried to run for the door but her muscles weren't working with her. Almost immediately she lost her balance and fell with a crash. He had injected her with a paralyzing serum. Her breaths were deep and short.

"Good work, Viktor," Snow whispered, smiling as he stood over Pandora's motionless body, "I told you once, Pandora, that you were a very special girl. It's time to see how special you are."

With a whistle Trajan signaled one of the soldiers to get Pandora. Her eyes widened as he picked her up. Though her mind was telling to fight back she was frozen. She urgently shifted her gaze to Mironov. He was still holding the needle. He looked as terrified as she felt.

"Take her out the back, there's a car waiting. Mironov you're going with her."

She tried to call for help but all that came out were garbled breaths as they pulled her through rooms of darkness. The music was disappearing. Her head started to spin.

Adric impatiently stared at the study doors from where he was sitting across the room. He checked the time. They had been in there for a while now. It wasn't that he didn't trust Mironov, he trusted him with his life, but he didn't trust Mironov with Pandora. His fingers tapped against the armrest.

"You look very sour," Kol observed as he approached.

"Not now, Kol."

"What's the matter?"

Adric's hazel eyes fell on the study door once more, "It's nothing, just—don't you have some girl to bed?"

Kol tilted his head and followed Adric's eyes. "Is there something particularly intriguing about those doors?"

His foot nervously tapped against the floor as he checked the time again. Something was going on that he wasn't a part of. He had a half a mind to go into the study himself but then—suddenly—the study doors opened. He stretched his neck and leaned forward. Only there was no Pandora. Instead he saw his father slink out of the room with President Snow close behind. Pandora was nowhere to be seen, and where was Mironov?

Adric sprang to his feet and followed his father with narrowed eyes.

"Woah, Adric. What is it?"

"Pan—Pandora. Have you seen her?"

Kol moved his eyes around and shrugged, "Um, well I don't know. I haven't really been looking for her."

Adric stepped forward. His father and President Snow were leaving the party, but not out of the front entrance.

"I'm sorry, Kol, I have to go."

He started following them instantly.

They didn't head back into the study, instead they passed through a large greenhouse of roses. Adric lagged behind, not wanting to be seen. They were heading towards the back entrances, the ones that were off limits to guests and press.

It was a clear sky. The silver light from the moon bled down into the alleyway and a biting breeze whipped through the path. Adric agilely hid behind the corner of a wall and peered out. There were two cars. President Snow smiled as he climbed into one with Trajan. The other was filled with shadows that Adric couldn't make out. He clenched his teeth and risked being seen to get a closer look, quickly darting behind a few crates. When he looked back to the second car this time his mouth became dry. This time he could see inside. Pandora was slumped to the side. Mironov was staring out the windows. The blood started rushing to Adric's brain. He should have gone with Pandora when Mironov asked her to be alone. Without thinking he started running, but it was too late. With a roar the cars started. Mironov saw him just as they turned the corner down the alleyway. Adric saw clearly then that he was crying. He watched as Mironov placed his palm against the window. He was mouthing something but before Adric could make it out they were gone.


	34. The Candidate

_The Candidate_

His heart felt like it was going to explode. He let out a cry, placing his hands on either side of his head. Panic quickly match the building dread.

_Think_, he told himself, _clear your head and think_.

He gasped for air. Mironov had tried to warn him that there was more to come, but how could he have known it was going to be this soon? He didn't even know what was coming.

Through chaos and urgency he searched his mind until the clearest solution presented itself. There were only a few places they would take her. Mironov was giving her drugs for a reason and they needed Mironov. Laboratories, medical equipment…they were heading to the PSO.

Suddenly Adric eyes lifted to the sky. His hair stirred in response to the wind. He took one last breath and then his feet started moving. He was running as fast as he could. By foot he couldn't hope to get there in time, but maybe by car he could.

* * *

_Paralyzed_. That was the only thought that occurred to Pandora. She was paralyzed, but her mind was wide-awake. Only her body was asleep. Some strange soldier was carrying her through sterile hallways. She twitched her eyes around quickly realizing they were in the PSO. The air smelt like steel and medicine. A man nearby came into view. Mironov.

She tried to lift her fingers, to spring out of the soldier's arms. She wanted to attack Mironov. He had betrayed her. He had led her into a trap that he knew she wouldn't be able to get out of, and for what? When she asked herself the question she felt like throwing up. A petrifying fear sunk into her consciousness. This was the reason Snow had looked at her the way he had when they danced. He planned this, probably months in advance. He was a snake in the grass and his fangs were deep in her skin before Pandora even knew that she'd been bitten.

A sensation buzzed in her feet. She gasped as she wiggled her foot. She could move it. The serum was wearing off.

"She's moving her foot, doctor."

Mironov didn't bother looking at Pandora or the soldier, "Good. I don't want her paralyzed fully when I do the procedure."

Her eyes widened. _Procedure_. Puzzle pieces were coming together but not fast enough. She thought back to the year long discussions she had with President Snow. She thought back to when she agreed to his terms. He had called her a candidate.

She could move her fingers now. They twitched as the feeling came back into her muscles.

The sector of the PSO they were in now was off limits to most. It felt subterranean and hollow. She could hear their feet smashing against the ground. Doors flew by, metal doors with large numbers engraved into them. It wasn't until the last one that they stopped.

Mironov pressed his hand against the panel as soon as it appeared. The doors swooshed open so lightly that you would have thought they were made of feathers instead of steel.

"Take her inside, put her on the ground, then leave. I'll do the rest."

The soldier nodded.

The room was terrifying. The ground wasn't solid, at least not completely. It was made up of metal grating. Pandora tried to see what was beyond the grating when she was set down but only blackness stared back. There were machines, large and monstrous. But she didn't notice the most terrifying detail until she lifted her eyes. A contraption was hanging overhead. It was hard to see the fine details but she could see that many wires were hooked up to the machines. A large needle gleamed at the epicenter of the contraption. She felt her lips tremble.

"You can leave," Mironov nodded.

"I have orders, doctor, to keep an eye on you."

Mironov stared at the soldier and froze. "Do you see over there?" He pointed to observation windows. President Snow was standing behind the glass, as was Trajan. "They can see me, if I was trying to get away with anything I would have done something on the car ride over. I told you to leave, and when you do lock the doors in place."

He didn't wait for the soldier to turn around before kneeling to Pandora's side and starting to work. Her dark eyes were filled with rage. When he touched her she wanted to scream.

"You—" the serum made her speech slower, "You are a liar."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't want this."

Steel chains were hanging on either side of the contraption. He pulled them down and sat Pandora up, clasping them on each of her wrists. They weren't like the ones Nyx Starson and the rebels had used, these were modern and sleek. She barely felt them around her wrist, that is until Mironov forced her into a standing position. Her feet were on the ground and tingling. The metal grating felt like it was cutting into her soles. Mironov made it so the chains gave her slack. She could drop to the floor if her body needed to but she couldn't move forward or backward.

"You told me I could trust you."

President Snow entered through a door that linked the medical chamber to the observation room. He cupped his hands behind his back as he watched Mironov work.

"You shouldn't be in here," the doctor quickly said as he started placing monitoring wires on Pandora's chest, arms, and head.

"It hasn't started yet, I wanted to say a few things before it did."

Mironov pursed his lips as he walked over to the monitors and started them up. Screens came online and buttons lit up. Pandora heard the contraption sing to a start.

Her knees shook, but she wasn't going to fall.

"The serum wore off fast," Snow observed.

"I didn't give her a high dosage. If she's paralyzed then it won't work. I was hoping I'd have more time before it wore off though."

"Hm—"

Mironov rubbed his hands together and came back into Pandora's peripherals. He was trying to concentrate. What he was about to do could kill her if he made one mistake. With a doctor's steadiness he grasped the device holding the needle and pulled Pandora's hair away from the back of her neck. She tried to thrash but he grabbed her shoulder.

"This is going to hurt," he whispered, "I had hoped you'd be mostly paralyzed for this. I'll try to do it quick."

She bared her teeth and growled at him with hate. There were no words for how she felt. She was mess of emotions, she couldn't make sense of them, they were boiling over inside her. Everything was happening so fast.

Blinding pain stabbed at the back of her neck. Mironov was inserting the needle into the back of her brain. Her fingers spread apart in agony, all her instincts told her to claw at the top of her neck but she was restrained. Just when she thought the pain would stop it didn't. She could feel the needle sliding into her. Her mouth opened with a terrified scream.

"There," he stumbled back and rubbed his beard with wide eyes. "It's in place."

President Snow tilted his head in interest, "Like a key in a lock."

The doctor dropped his eyes. He couldn't look at Pandora.

"I'd like to be alone with her for a minute."

"What?"

"Just one minute. I'd like to talk."

"No."

Snow shot him a deathly glare, "I said_ I _want to talk."

Mironov peered to Pandora. Her lips were pale, her eyes wide and unblinking. It was obvious how frightened she truly was. Only an hour before this she was celebrating her birthday—now that was all over.

"We need to do this fast," he said. "Be quick."

His limped walk rattled the metal grating. Once inside the observation room he took a seat at his station. His hands started pressing buttons. His eyes twitched to a screen that depicted Pandora's brain. He could see everything.

"So that's what the inside of her skull looks like?" Trajan said, leaning over the station in fascination.

"Something like it."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Viktor."

Mironov cupped his hand over his mouth. He hoped so too.

"My dear Miss Sullivan, I guess this is where we part ways. At least for the moment."

Tear spilled out of her eyes. The pain at the back of her neck was agonizing.

"You once asked me about what your candidacy meant? Well—this is it. Of course Viktor explains it better than I do, but I wanted to be the one to tell you. Plus I don't think he has the stomach for it."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Oh? How determined of you, and centered—it's nice to see that even with a needle in that brain of yours you still have a sharp tongue."

He scanned her up and down before taking another step forward.

"Your DNA and chromosome count is very special—an anomaly that I've been waiting many years for. It allows us to successfully immerse your brain, to perfect that special DNA of yours using a tonic of Viktor's making. All this will make much more sense in time."

"I hate you," she growled.

He smiled, "To be honest I always hoped the candidate would be someone from the Capitol, a man or soldier. But of course fate had other plans. You came along and made my day. A very special girl. It's fitting this should happen on your birthday, look at this as your rebirth into a new life."

In that moment she wished she had died on the operating table, or even better in the arena. Tears choked her.

"This isn't goodbye of course, but I just wanted to say how happy I am—" he was inches away from her face, his smile unwaveringly evil, "I just can't wait to see how you turn out."

Her breaths shook into a low and hateful simmer. With a snarl she spit in his face and narrowed her eyes. Immediately his smile dropped. He moved back quickly, grabbing for his kerchief to wipe his face.

"You're pathetic!"

He stared at the wiped away spit and then back to Pandora. He should have been angry but he wasn't, he was overjoyed. He laughed and clapped his hands together. The bastard loved every minute of this.

Back in the observation Mironov room was preparing. His hands were shaking. He felt great guilt—overpowering guilt that he couldn't reveal to anyone. He knew he was damning himself by doing this. He would never forgive himself. He wiped the sweat away from his brow and leaned back.

"_Hey! You can't be here!" _

He twitched his eyes to the door leading to the corridor. Loud shouts were echoing. Trajan put his hand on his gun and looked too. Heartbeats past before beeping sounded.

"What is that?" Mironov asked.

Trajan pulled out his gun and pointed it to the door, "Someone's accessing the entrance panel."

A click sounded. The doors swooshed open.

"Wait!" Mironov yelled, stopping as soon as he saw the person standing in the doorway.

"Adric…" Trajan identified, lowering his gun for a split second.

Adric was sweating and frantic. "Where is she!?"

He stumbled back as soon as his eyes landed on the windows. He could see President Snow talking to Pandora, more importantly he could see her hooked up to a contraption.

"What have you done!?"

"Calm down, Adric," Trajan warned.

His gaze landed on Mironov, "Whatever you're about to do stop it!"

Mironov lifted his hands and looked to Trajan, "I can't…I'm so sorry…I can't."

He charged forward and swung his fists at Mironov but before he could get close enough to hit the doctor his father grabbed him by the uniform and pushed him against the wall.

"Get off me!"

"I said calm down, boy!"

Adric tried to shove his father away but he wouldn't let go.

"What have you done, Viktor!?" he screamed, "What have you done!?"

"You will stop this!" Trajan roared.

Silence suddenly fell. Adric's broken breaths pierced the air.

"Viktor, close and lock the observation entry, please. We don't want anymore interruptions."

Mironov sadly lifted himself out of his chair and obeyed. Trajan didn't take his eyes off Adric.

"You will listen to me," He said to his son, "Or I will break your arm, you understand?"

Angry tears were welling in Adric's eyes.

"When I tell you to stay you stay."

President Snow suddenly came through the door and paused. His eyes landed on Adric.

"Where did he come from?"

Trajan closed his eyes, "He followed us."

Snow adjusted his well-tailored suit and smiled, "Just in time for the show."

Mironov sealed the door behind Snow and stared through the glass. It was time.

"You ready, Viktor?"

The doctor held his hand to his head. He was desperately trying to not cry. He could hear Adric's pained breaths, feel his eyes on him. The shame he felt in that moment would never be surpassed for the rest of his life.

A second went by before he felt Snow's hand on his shoulder.

"I said, are you ready?"

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, "Y—Yes."

"Good. Let's get started."

"The procedure works in stages. I can't go to the highest stage, that will put her into shock. I'm going to start low." He eyed the screen of her brain and checked her vitals before pressing a yellow button and putting his hand on a lever. He eased on the lever slowly.

Pandora felt burning pain spreading inside her brain.

"Ah! Stop!"

Her heart rate spiked.

"Okay," Beads of sweat dripped down Mironov's face.

"You're hurting her!" Adric yelled. His father was still holding him against the wall.

"That was the lowest—" he whispered, "It's not taking. I'm going to increase it."

He eased once more on the lever.

Pandora lips shook. The burning was growing into a raging fire that was terrorizing her brain. She could actually feel it starting to pump through her veins.

"STOP!" She cried out through screams. Tears flowed from her eyes.

Adric gasped in panic. He had promised he'd take care of her and he wasn't doing it. He needed to save her. With his last bit of strength he pushed his father away and started running towards the door.

Mironov widened his eyes. With his hand still on the lever he shouted, "Adric! No!"

Adric tried the doors, but they wouldn't open. Not even with his hand against the panel.

"They won't open! I'm the only one that can do it!"

His eyes burned as he stared at Pandora through the glass, "Open them!"

"If I do that now then I could kill her, Adric! No one can enter the chamber right now!"

"Alright…everyone calm down," Snow grabbed the gun from Trajan and pointed it at Adric.

"Sir—" Trajan tried to object but Snow raised his hand to silence him.

"Increase the levels, Viktor."

Mironov shook his head, "Her brain isn't absorbing it like it should. We should stop. I don't think it's working."

Adric was frozen in place.

"Viktor, do it."

"It's too much, it might kill her."

"I said do it!"

"She's not animal," Mironov tried to plead, "She's a girl. I can't just do this. I—"

Snow's cold eyes moved from Adric to Mironov.

"Alright, then I'll do it myself."

"NO!" Adric screamed.

Mironov tried to stop him but before he could Snow pushed the lever all the way up.

"What have you done?! That's too much!" Mironov's voice was as sharp as glass, "No, no, no…"

He started flipping on switches.

From beneath the metal grating a breeze began to blow. Pandora gasped for air as the breeze made her hair and dress dance. She turned her eyes to the glass just as the pain exploded. It coursed from the needle to the rest of her body so fast that she didn't know what hit her. A devastating scream overtook her. She felt her muscles twitching. Her brain felt like it was being scrambled. Her legs started to kick and her arms flailed involuntarily.

Adric banged on the door but it wouldn't give.

"No—" he whispered, his hands pressed against the glass. "What's happening to her!?"

Mironov was rushing. Pandora's vitals were spiking off the charts.

"She seizing! It's too much for her…Dammit!"

"Stop it!"

Pandora wailed. She snapped her eyes shut. Pain not blood was traveling through her body now. A final gasp filled her lungs as she fell to the ground. The breeze blew her hair around her shoulders and face. When she opened her eyes back up she saw him as clear as day. Adric was pressed against the glass. He was shouting and terrified.

Her eyes stayed on him even though her body was convulsing.

"Adric!"

The machines sparked with electricity.

"She's going into shock…" Mironov mumbled with worry, "No. The serum is entering her system successfully but it's ravaging her brain!"

Adric could hear her scream his name through the glass. Tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't save her and she was only a few feet away.

"Adric! I'm on fire! I'm on fire!"

"No…do something!" He cried to Mironov.

The doctor glanced to the medical screens and then to the vitals. There was only one thing he could do for Pandora now. He stared at the button he needed to push.

She could feel her brain short-circuiting. Memories flickered like a skipping song. Finnick's smile. Adric's hair. August's laugh. Scorch falling into fire. Nyx's brains and blood on the ceiling. They were replaying over and over again. Fading in and out.

"I need to put her into a coma!"

Snow stepped forward, "What? No."

"If you want her to live it's the only way!"

"The procedure isn't done."

"The procedure is complete! What we're dealing with now is the repercussions! If you want her to live I need to do this! This is my fail safe. I won't let her die!"

Mironov glanced to the button.

"Do it!" Adric shouted.

The doctor gave Pandora one last look. He thought about his dead daughter, Pandora looked so much like her. Slowly his hand reached for the button.

"God forgive me," he whispered to himself.

The moment he pressed the button he held his breath.

Pandora kept her eyes on Adric. Her heart was beating faster and faster. Pain left her tongue-tied. Pain was making her whole body shake.

Then—suddenly—another sensation appeared. _Coldness_—she could feel something else being injected into her, but it was different. It felt like ice. A raw shriek sounded from her as she tried to fight against it, but she could feel her heart rate slowing, feel the pain subsiding. She stared at Adric, black dots were forming in her vision. This was it. Blackness was sweeping over her. Her muscles relaxed, but it wasn't a relief—it was like falling. It was the same sensation she had felt in all her dreams…to be completely terrified but equally helpless. The ice spread to her legs, further to her toes.

Slowly her eyes shut.

The last thing she would remember was Adric's expression as he watched her fall into a sleep so dark and still it might as well be death.

|End of Epoch Two|

* * *

**Pandora Sullivan will return in **_**Shadows of Time**_


	35. End Notes

**End Notes**

_Shadows of Time_ is now up and waiting to be read. I'd like to thank you all for reading and enjoying the story as much as some of you did. Hopefully _Shadows of Time_ lives up to your expectations (and if not, you can just deal with it :) )…but seriously, thank you!


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